Dragon Blade
by avtorSola
Summary: Hitsugaya Toushiro is in another sticky situation. He's stranded across dimensions without a way home, and he'll do anything to return - even turn to crime. But the UA and a kind green-haired boy won't let him side with the villains, no matter what happens. Because every broken soul deserves healing and Izuku is just too good for this world. Post-TYBW War, PTSD. Slow updates.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, this is my first foray into the My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia universe, and there will be heavy manga references (Bleach and BnHA both!). Please provide feedback! I would greatly appreciate it. I'm posting this one as a teaser, just to see if there's much interest.**

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 _Set after the Thousand Year Blood War_

People had always theorized the possibility of alternate dimensions. Of realities involving things they could only imagine - yes, of powers even beyond Quirks. But few had believed them to be real. Until now.

It was an average day in Tokyo when it finally happened, and as a young child clapped her hands in excitement, jumping up and down in front of the escalator, a glowing, faceless being suddenly materialized and began running in circles around her. Her parents yelped in shock, the new teddy bear that their daughter had wanted so badly still held out to the little girl. And the girl stared breathlessly, not at the bear she had been so excited about, but at the humanoid shape of pure energy running around her. The shape flickered at her stare, then exploded into thirteen different shapes, multiplying rapidly around her. She teetered faintly, her parents calling out in mixed worry and praise for her Quirk.

With the help of the nearby authorities, the little girl's Quirk was eventually brought under control. She was given quite a lot of praise from the nearby policemen, and her parents seeing her exhaustion bought her a bottle of apple juice for the ride home. They stopped by the local government building first, however, where her father registered her Quirk as 'can create humanoid helpers out of light'. But her Quirk, uncontrolled as it was, had repercussions that she would be unaware of for some time. For her father was incorrect. She was not creating the energy people – rather, she was _summoning_ them. And when her power had run wild for that first time, it had summoned a creature from across worlds, a creature powerful and jaded beyond the like of any hero.

It had started as a soft tug at a point just behind his navel, a flicker of nausea washing over him as he'd tried to ignore, but then he'd taken another silent step. Suction like a steep headwind combined with gravity dragged at his limbs, and he stumbled and fell, crying out in surprise. His subordinates, arranged in a wedge behind him, squalled in shock, but it was too late. The world spiraled apart around his lean body and he fell through the gap between dimensions, pulled inexorably through a glassy barrier that shattered at his touch.

The last thing he saw before he landed hard on the concrete was a fluorescent sign and the kitschy reflection of clothes in a glass window, but then his temple hit unyielding stone, and everything went black.

And with the arrival of the Tenth Division Captain, two worlds collided.

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 **P** **lease review! I have the plot all thought out, so hopefully this get some interest!**

 **~avtorSola**


	2. Making Contact

**A/N: Holy crap, I wasn't expecting that much of a response on a 515 word teaser! Six reviews and nineteen follows? IN TWO DAYS? _WHAT_. Well, apparently I should continue the story then...**

 **Also, for those of you curious about how power scaling is going to work, I have actually done a few calculations (yes, math, ew) to compare Hitsugaya with the rest of the BnHA universe - and yes, he will be rather OP, especially compared to Class 1-A (since they're kids). But don't worry too much, as I do have plans to both handicap Hitsugaya (ex. he's not supposed to directly interfere with human society because he's dead) and to power up certain BnHA characters ;)**

 **Anyhow...first chapter! _Plus_ _Ultra!_**

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Light filtered slowly in through the cracks of his eyelids, and he shifted vaguely, his head aching. He felt a hand cup his face, holding his cheekbone between silicone-covered palms, and suddenly there were fingers on his carotid, gently taking his pulse. He snapped to full awareness, mind whirring at breakneck pace, and with a flash of yawning emerald he was awake and looking up into the face of a concerned man wearing what _had_ to be a Halloween costume…in March. In Tokyo. Shit. What had happened this time? He sat up, blinking the blood trickling from a gash on his forehead out of his left eye, quietly observing his surroundings. And then it hit him and he looked up at the man in the yellow and green superhero suit, stricken realization flooding his body with unnatural cold. The man was talking softly to him, the hands on his shoulders trying to push him gently onto his back, and a small crowd had gathered around just outside some unspoken perimeter.

 _The humans could see him_.

"-easy now, you've got a nasty head injury," the man was saying, his voice soothing. "Could you please lay back down until the ambulance arrives? You fell from quite a height."

He remembered then. The flash of gravity and light and spinning color as he'd been pulled across dimensions, away from his Sixth Seat and her squadron of shinigami, their cries of 'Captain!' as he vanished in front of them. A sharp breath passed his lips, everything crystallizing in his mind. He leveled a cold stare at the man touching him, then snapped his body in a single fluid motion, shaking the stranger's hands off him. He could feel Hyourinmaru's sheathed blade resting securely against his broadening back, his haori rustling about his muscled calves, but despite these familiar things he could only focus on one thing.

 _Humans. Could see him. Which meant…shit._

He shot to his feet, the protesting cry of the superhero-like man in front of him summarily ignored, and turned towards the crowd, already breaking into a run. And then the man in the yellow and green suit reached out, his arms growing to unimaginable lengths like limp noodles. Without thinking, he recoiled, a cry of shock bursting from his mouth, and on instinct built from years of war, he pulsed his reiatsu. The Shunpo carried him at least a mile from the shopping center, and he landed neatly in a tree in a small park, crouching on one of the branches. Finally, he took a calming breath and properly observed his surroundings. Much to his surprise, he was still in Tokyo, but the signs plastered to every wall were of men, women and humanoid _creatures_ dressed in elaborate costumes with advanced gadgetry designed for fighting.

Hitsugaya Toushiro, in that instant, felt the air driven from his lungs. If his suspicion was correct, then in this dimension humans could possess superpowers. And he'd just run from one of them.

Oh, this was brilliant. And people called him a child prodigy.

He sighed, folding his head into his hands. The callouses on his palms were rough against the smooth, soft skin of his face and the sharp angle of his jaw, and the contact was grounding. He knew for certain that he'd been yanked from Soul Society into a new dimension – he'd been through the Dangai enough times to know what interdimensional space felt like – but this was definitely not the World of the Living, and he needed to get back to his Division. Matsumoto couldn't be left in charge indefinitely, after all.

With a rasping whisper, he drew Hyourinmaru from the sheath and pressed the gleaming blade into empty air, calling silently for the Senkaimon. And much to his relief, it appeared. But the doors didn't open. He frowned, reaching out to touch the sliding shoji doors, and shivered at the unnaturally hollow emptiness emanating from the passage behind the locked gate. The Senkaimon quivered at his touch, reacting to his powerful reiatsu, and abruptly started to fade away. A low curse escaped him, and he sheathed Hyourinmaru again with a scowl.

He'd obviously been brought here by something. Or rather, he thought, glancing up at the posters and TV screens of heroes and heroines, by some _one_. So all he needed to do was find them again, and get them to send him back – all while dodging the heroes that would inevitably be on the lookout for the 'injured' teenager on the run after falling from 'quite a height.' Easier said than done. Heroes with their fancy powers appeared to be fairly common, judging by the posters scattered all over the city, but determining which among them had opened the dimensional portal and forced him through it…that would be much harder.

He took a soft breath and was gone again, Shunpoing to another part of the city, closer the mall he'd landed in. A frown twitched the corners of his mouth, the air sour between his lips, charged with some faint remnant of spiritual residue. It was unlike reishi or reiryoku, from what he could tell, but the buzz was undeniably present, and he could feel the reishi particles that made up his spiritual body protesting the slight interference. Hopefully this task wouldn't take too long. Reishi wasn't an easy thing to manipulate (as he knew through his Bankai) but if exposed to too much outside reiatsu for too long, it would react. His time in the Soul King's realm, where the air swam with power, and movement had been sluggish for the first minute or so, had already affected him, making him stronger and faster. It had been like the Soul King's realm had seeped into his body, steeping it in thick, dense power until he emitted that same aura effortlessly.

It was unlikely this foreign energy would have the same effect, but if he was exposed for too long, there was no telling what could happen.

Perched silently on top of a water tower, gazing out over the tangled throng of cars and people below, he gritted his teeth. Even from his high vantage point, he could see that some of the people in civilian clothes had inhuman features like those some of the heroes had. It was a sobering, horrifying realization to come to – that even a civilian, non-hero could have the power which had ripped him from his home. But he did have the one thing that none of the humans did, and that was time. Not as much as a normal shinigami, to be sure – Kurotsuchi's horrific treatments had shaved years, if not decades, off his lifespan – but at least ten times that of a normal human. He would find someone to send him back even if it took years.

Suddenly, one of the large TV screens on the side of a tall, glassy building shifted, a newswoman with curly horns on her head appearing onscreen with the yellow and green suited-man that had been trying to help him earlier. The man waved at the camera, a serious expression on his face, and continued speaking.

 _~"-a little under 170cm, if I had to guess, maybe about fourteen or fifteen years old. With a shock of bright white hair too, whiter than snow, and green eyes. He's got a nasty head wound, though, so I don't know how clearly he's thinking."~_

Toushiro felt his blood run cold, eyes widening as he realized what was going on. The newswoman looked concerned.

 _~"Is this boy dangerous, Elasticity?"~_ the horned woman asked, and Hitsugaya breathed a sigh of relief when the man shook his head.

 _~"It's a possibility – he was armed with a sword. However, he didn't like physical contact, and he panicked and used his Quirk upon seeing my own Quirk, which either suggests that he was disoriented enough to not understand what he was seeing and was scared enough to run, or was panicking upon seeing a hero."~_ The superhero's face was still scrunched up in concern and confusion. ~ _"However, his Quirk is troublesome – he appeared to teleport away from the location where he was found. Running will be very easy for him, and I urge any citizen that comes across this boy to first contact authorities, and then if he is calm, to attempt to delay him from a distance. If anything, I urge citizens to keep their distance, both for this young man's safety and for theirs. He ran the moment I tried to catch hold of him again."~_

 _~"Teleportation? That_ is _a difficult Quirk,"~_ the newscaster remarked. Elasticity nodded and smiled anxiously.

 _~"It is, and the boy appears frightened enough to repeatedly use it in public. If any information concerning his whereabouts is discovered, please relay it to the police."~_

Toushiro cursed under his breath as the brief announcement faded into further discussion about the recent debut of a rookie heroine called Mt. Lady, then crouched further into the shadows of the water tower. He'd have to move in the shadows, then, if he didn't want his journey home to be delayed in any way. But that was something he could do.

For the next several days, he stayed out of sight, wandering the back alleys of this polished, newer Tokyo with silent footsteps. And he watched. Gradually, as the TVs kept up the constant stream of information, and as he watched the people moving briskly about their business below him, he gained a vague image of the new dimension he found himself in. Somehow, this dimension's timeline was more advanced than his own, and humanity had evolved to the point where many of them had gained superhuman abilities, or the Quirks that everyone seemed so fond of jabbering on about. Furthermore, he couldn't sense any Hollows – which was probably a good thing, considering that there were no alternate-universe shinigami either. However, the buzzing somehow-spiritual nuisance didn't go away, and it was slowly starting to make his skin itch.

But there was one problem. He hadn't eaten since the day before he'd arrived in this new dimension, and the distinct, dizzy weakness of hunger was beginning to set in. His Shunpo distances were already shortening, his energy starting to run dangerously low. And he hadn't slept much either, further complicating the matter. But when he saw the massive stadium onscreen, packed to the brim with cheering people, he had a brainwave. With that many over-evolved humans in one place, he was bound to find at least one with the ability to send him home. Or so he hoped.

So he set off at a run, intermixing short bursts of Shunpo into his pace to cover more ground in less time, and breathed, the dense knot of human reiatsu on the other side of the massive city calling to his senses.

It took him a grand total of forty minutes to traverse the distance, and by the time he arrived outside the massive grounds of what appeared to be a high school, he was gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest, and he dry heaved in the relative safety of a nearby alleyway. His limbs trembled slightly, and for the first time he realized that he was probably reaching the point of malnutrition. A week without food would definitely do that. For a brief moment, he compared the faint quivering to the agonizing scrape against his insides that being zombified had felt like, then with a sharp intake of air, he blinked the thought from his mind. He could already tell that his reaction time was worryingly low compared to what it had been.

Shakily, he stood up, glancing across the street at the high walls and secured stadium of where the high-school Quirk tournament was taking place. The incessant screaming was clearly audible even from his sheltered spot between two concrete obelisks. With a sigh, he took a step forward, Shunpoing easily over the wall, and landed in a clump of grass on the other side. Then he slipped off to find a spot from which he could more easily observe the Quirks. All he had to do was find the one that could send him back. That was it.

But it seemed fate would have other plans. For just as he ghosted around to the side of the stadium, preparing to scale the gigantic metal structure, a woman dressed in a bodysuit popped out of nowhere, a lanyard reading 'SECURITY' looped around her neck. He blinked once at her, then startled, realizing even before she started moving that she was one of the heroes hunting him. Her blonde hair bounced as she closed the gap, narrowing his ground-level avenues of escape. Then she shifted to her left, allowing a man with a wooden-pattern covering his face to cover his right path. But they both kept their distance.

"Stay still, kiddo," the woman commanded, but her voice was low and soothing, like she was talking to an injured animal. "We don't want to hurt you, or scare you, okay?"

 _Don't worry, Captain, this won't hurt a bit! Now drink up! And then there was the taste of blood – not his own – on his tongue._

He jerked back at the similarity in their voices and words, then willed his erratically racing heart to slow, pressing his back against the metal framework of the massive stadium. The woman stopped when he yanked himself away, carefully raising her hands, palms up, to show that she wasn't carrying anything. On the side, the man with the wooden costume mirrored her movements. Both were trying to appear very gentle, that much he could tell, and the dried blood smeared on his face probably wasn't helping matters.

"Kiddo, could you come here, please?" the woman asked again, obviously trying to appear non-threatening.

 _You can come out, Captain!_

He had to fight back the surge of bile that rose up his throat at the unwanted memory of Giselle's voice, but even as the blonde woman settled just a little more forward, he could feel indecision flickering at his mind. He hadn't had much success searching for the necessary Quirk on his own for the past six days, and he was feeling faint from hunger and lack of sufficient sleep. Perhaps he would have a more success looking from the inside of this unusual society, and at the very least he could get a few stitches for the little gash above his eyebrow. Slowly, he nodded and as he took a step away from the stadium wall she smiled encouragingly.

But then he felt it. The prickling, heavy weight of evil pressing in on his soul, and he whirled around in shock, eyes widening, and shot up to the roof of the stadium in a neat Shunpo. The woman's cry of protest was lost on the wind, and he watched in horror as the commentators slowly noticed the warping of spacetime above the rectangular slab of concrete on which two teenage boys stood. Suddenly, the woman in blue and orange and off-white grew impossibly large behind him, the wooden man riding on her shoulder with lashes of wood ready to capture. But they both paused at the sight of the rip in the sky, even as Hitsugaya had.

The young shinigami swallowed hard as the Garganta struggled to form properly, praying against all hope that the doorway to Hueco Mundo wouldn't open. But then the sky tore and a howling mask roared through the portal. Toushiro felt his heart drop.

Adjuchas.

The Hollow let loose another earth-shattering cry even as the commentators shouted warnings to the civilians in the stands, its long fangs and claws gashing the concrete like the rock was paper. And then it chuckled, turning hungry eyes on the two stunned teenagers in the arena, and lunged for them, cackling madly the entire time, its thirty-foot girth towering over the two boys.

And Hitsugaya moved, throwing himself forward without even a second's thought to tackle both the blonde teenager and his dichromatic-haired counterpart entirely out of the massive Hollow's path. Hot pain flared along his thigh, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pain of fresh blood, rolling with the teens as they hit the ground forty yards away from the concrete platform. The boy with white and red hair coughed, winded, and but his blonde friend shot upright, growling with faintly sweet-scented nitroglycerin sparking on his palms. The boy's red eyes flickered down to the deep gash in his savior's leg.

"The _fuck_ are you-"

Hitsugaya didn't have time. The Adjuchas was already moving, the distinct white splash of his haori obviously recognized as a powerful threat.

"Bakudo no ichi, Sai!"

The Kido spell did its work, wrenching the blonde's arms behind his back and sending him falling flat on his face, safely out of harm's way with the heterochromatic kid sitting up beside him.

Toushiro shot forward again, rushing the Adjuchas head on. And then Hyourinmaru's hilt made contact with his palm, the blade sending cold fire through his heart and soul. The pain from his rent thigh numbed instantly, cold reiatsu overflowing from his soul, and the Adjuchas focused all of its attention on the young captain. A gleeful smile split its bony mask, and with a high-pitched whistle its claws were lashing out. Hitsugaya front-flipped effortlessly over the attempt at decapitating him, drawing his blade at the same time.

The green glare of his cold gaze burned with vindictive anger.

"Stupid Hollow." He muttered, and Shunpoed, Hyourinmaru's silver blade flashing white and red.

He landed neatly on the concrete, waraji scuffing the cracked surface, Hyourinmaru's icy hilt held in a perfect reverse slash, then relaxed and sheathed the blade with an expert flick of his wrist. The Adjuchas stiffened behind him. And then it split straight down the center, the severed halves of its massive carcass disintegrating into reishi before it even hit the ground. Toushiro let a huge breath of air escape him, then turned back to face the pair he'd rescued. With a wordless gesture, he released the Kido spell, looking the two over carefully. They stared back, one blinking in confusion and the other in something like indignance, but were unharmed, and almost without realizing it the tension slid from his shoulders.

Heat seared his thigh then, reminding him of the bone-deep slice in his flesh, and a woman wearing a very suggestive costume appeared in front of him as his leg buckled. Her eyes were kind, though her face was serious, and as the guy with the wooden face popped up behind her, she reached up and ripped her outfit. Instantly, some kind of pink smoke hit his nose in a concentrated puff, and before Toushiro knew exactly what was happening, the concrete began to look strangely comfortable. He staggered, the sky rolling once, twice, and then gave in to the darkness tugging him under.

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 **Well? How was the first real chapter? Leave a review to let me know! ;)**

 **~avtorSola**


	3. Assimilation

**A/N: Y'all be crazy - I've never gotten this many reviews/follows in such a short time on ANYTHING except maybe "Transition Period" and that story is over 150,000 words. Thank you so much.**

 **Now, this chapter may be slightly confusing, so I'd like to take this moment to remind you that this is _Hitsugaya's_ perspective still, and everything written is supposed to reflect his thoughts and opinions. Some things he thinks/says don't reflect the reality of the story. For those of you unaware of this technique, it's called the 'unreliable narrator.'**

 **And to answer the question of 'shipping' before it starts. Yes, I do have a pairing in mind for this story. No, I do not know if I will actively (put them in a relationship) or passively (lots of fluffy hints) ship it. No, you are not allowed to know the pairing. Figure it out yourselves! ;)**

 **But enough of that now. Enjoy the story!**

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It was the steady, dull ache pulsing faintly from his thigh that first made him aware that he'd been asleep and towed him slowly back into semiconsciousness. However, waking up from this dreamlike state was slow and lethargic, his body either unwilling or unable to process anything other than the soft warmth surrounding him. Every so often he got the vague impression that something had changed, some sort of pressure rousing him from the dozing blur for a few clear seconds before the comfortable haze returned. But gradually the fog thickening his thoughts began to evaporate, and the world around him began to make logical sense.

He woke up in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but a cloth medical gown – the kind that fully preserved his modesty, thank god – a stripe of bandaging around the crown of his head, and a thick swath of bandages wrapped tightly around his left thigh. An IV had been taped into the crook of his elbow, and he blinked sleepily up at the clear plastic bag of fluid hanging over his head. After a few moments of just lying there, Hitsugaya dragged his torso forward until he was sitting up in the bed, the white cloth blanket still covering his legs. His head spun a bit, and he gave himself a moment to regain his bearings before looking around the small, plain room. There wasn't much else in the room besides his bed, a few chairs, and a small table with a thin folder lying on top of it, but he could sense the reiatsu of what had to be the nursing staff wandering around the hospital, some of them moving in his direction.

He followed them with his mind's eye as the humans' reiatsu drew closer, folding his hands in his lap as he waited for the doctor to come in. Luckily enough for him, he knew that he could use the head injury as an excuse to have spotty memories, but it's wouldn't be enough to use that as his only reason for not divulging information – he'd have to play this carefully.

When the door opened, he pulled his attention away from the small window, looking up at the group who had just walked into his hospital room. Two were in pale green scrubs, and as the others took seats in the various chairs, the taller of the two medical professionals walked over to him.

"It's good to see you awake, young man," the purple-haired woman said kindly. "Are you feeling alright? Hungry or thirsty? Any pain I should know about?"

Toushiro blinked up at her in surprise, realizing for the first time that he wasn't feeling shaky or weak with hunger, though his stomach was protesting noisily. He glanced idly at the tube feeding into his arm, recognizing it as a nutrient drip.

"I'm hungry, but I'm not in much pain," he replied softly. "I assume I'm on painkillers right now?"

The doctor nodded once, then spoke softly into her pager before returning her full attention to him.

"Food is on its way for you, young man," she explained gently. "But in the meantime, do you feel up to answering some questions these three have for you?"

He nodded, already expecting the whole song-and-dance routine with the police, and flicked his gaze to them expectantly. There were three of them present – a dark-haired man with tired eyes and a slouched posture, a man in a police uniform with a cat's head, and a bespectacled older woman with bright yellow eyes and a clipboard. The man with the cat's head leaned forward first, a friendly purr echoing from his throat.

"Well, first and foremost, I'll go ahead and explain why we're here," he began cheerfully. "To make a long story short, you're a kid that nobody has reported missing, yet we can't seem to find out who your parents are, and we need to figure out where you belong. Secondly, as you probably know, public use of Quirks is prohibited for anyone without a license. However, when the pro-hero Elasticity tried to rescue you about a week ago, you ran by using your Quirk, and then jumped in to save two kids about your age from a gigantic monster during the U.A. Sports Festival yesterday afternoon, again using your Quirk. Obviously, we're not exactly sure why you did all of this, so we were hoping to hear your side of the story before we try to figure out what to do with you."

Toushiro blinked once at the straightforward address, then shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze.

"Uh…where do you want me to start?" he asked. The bespectacled woman smiled at him.

"With your name, if you would," she teased gently. "This old woman likes starting off simple."

The questions came quickly, but not overwhelmingly so. Hitsugaya suspected that this was in part to the presence of the two physicians standing in the corner of the room, monitoring the whole process as the trio launched questions at him, trying to build a picture of his life. And for his part, he didn't contribute much. Parents were dead, name was Hitsugaya Toushiro, birthday was December 20th, doesn't know if he has any relatives, and the like. But then, after it had become clear that he 'didn't remember' a lot of the information that the police and government were asking for, the tone changed. The dark-haired man leaned forward then, his stare unblinking.

"Why did you run away from Elasticity?" the sleepy-looking man asked, his tone very flat. Toushiro shrugged, deciding to answer honestly. His fingers tightened, fists clenching on the blankets until his knuckles were white.

"…He startled me," the young shinigami confessed. "I didn't know where I was. And then after I shook him off he tried to touch me again."

The dark-haired man was quiet for a minute, scratching at the scraggly stubble on his chin. When he spoke again, his tone was noticeably gentler.

"Were you afraid that he was going to hurt you?"

Hitsugaya stiffened at the delicate question, suddenly realizing where the trio was going with their line of questioning. Anger clamped down on his mind, lips peeling back to expose the white bone of his teeth.

"First off, that's none of your fucking business," he spat, "and second, hell no."

The three people questioning him exchanged disapproving, but not surprised, glances, and Hitsugaya got the distinct feeling that he'd somehow played directly into their hands. It set him on edge, and he flicked his attention between the three civilians and the two medical professionals standing at the foot of his bed. One was carefully making small notes on a clipboard, and when he caught Hitsugaya looking at him, he smiled kindly, lowering clipboard just enough to show the foreign name embroidered on the pocket of his white coat.

 _Lonnie E. Elrick, M.D., D.A.A.E.T.S., F.A.A.E.T.S._

"Easy, son, we're just trying to figure out what happened," he said, his accented voice kind but still firm, and Hitsugaya felt a little bit of tension in his shoulders relax at the earnest tone. "I can understand if you don't want to answer something, and that's okay. However, while my friend Dr. Watanabe here was stitching up your leg, she discovered that you had some very unpleasant scarring, and if someone hurt you in the past, we need to know that. Could you please tell us? You can write it down if you don't want to speak."

Toushiro felt his lungs still, staring at the golden-haired man in frozen shock before tendrils of clenching panic wound around his heart, chilling it to a lump of solid ice. Scars? Which scars had they seen? The white slash Aizen gave him? Or the circular patch of pale scar tissue just above his heart, where Bazz-B's fire had burned him from the inside out? Or perhaps it was the long, shoulder-to-hip streak that had nearly severed his spine in two, sending him to the ground only to lie there helplessly, watching as Matsumoto's still form hit the ground at his side, her blood pooling around her and staining her strawberry hair pink with-

 _Those who live together should die together. That's my style._

The blanket was soft-smooth-, a spreading stain of crimson blooming on the white of her obi- cold, that was cold, against his forehead, on the back of his neck- ice blooming in deadly splendor on Cang Du's back- easy, easy, listen to the heartbeat thudding beneath his ear. Breathe, in and out, one and two. That's it. Keep going.

"Easy, kiddo, I've got you. Come on now, can you feel how soft the blanket is?"

He blinked twice before he realized that Dr. Elrick was sitting on the edge of his bed, white-clad arms cradling his trembling torso gently. Sometime in between the moment that his past had blurred his reality and now, he'd curled in on himself. And then the gravity of what had just happened hit him, striking deep at his pride. Furious with himself, he jerked back, shoving the doctor away.

"Leave me alone!" he snapped, reaching blindly for Hyourinmaru. Terror seized him when he realized the blade wasn't in the room, and he whirled around, kicking back the sheets. He _needed_ the dragon with him now, if only to reassure himself, to prove to himself that the wise creature was still coiled protectively around his heart. And then Dr. Elrick and the tall female doctor were moving, their hands on his arms and legs, holding him in place. He yelled wordlessly, on the brink of pulling his reiatsu forth to throw them off, but then there was a needle in his shoulder and suddenly his heart rate was dropping and he could breathe again and the tight compression round his chest was easing away.

Dr. Elrick carefully helped him lay back against the pillows, pressing a hand to his forehead gently. The golden-haired man's hazel eyes glinted with understanding and compassion, but Hitsugaya was surprised to not see any pity there. He sighed quietly, feeling lethargic and calm, slightly detached from reality.

"…You sedated me," he observed after a moment, staring up at the foreign doctor, but he couldn't bring himself to feel angry or upset. Dr. Elrick sighed, obvious regret in his voice.

"Yes, I did. And I would apologize to you, but I don't want to lie to you about something so simple," the man said gently. "You see, I'm a psychiatric specialist from the United States, and I happen to be very experienced in helping patients suffering from trauma, including Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was brought in on your case at Dr. Watanabe's request."

Hitsugaya swallowed, knowing that this information would matter to him later, and nodded once.

"Where's my Za- my sword?" he asked plaintively. "I need it – I've always had it."

Dr. Elrick raised an eyebrow, then glanced at the cat-policeman with a protective sharpness in those hazel eyes.

"If you would?" he relayed quietly. "It cannot be held as 'evidence' forever, and he probably needs it to feel safe."

The policeman with the cat's head nodded and rose from his seat. Then he paused by the door.

"Can the official record indicate that-"

"Yes, I'm diagnosing him. Put it on your records and do whatever you have to do to indicate this being his reason for running away from Elasticity via Quirk usage," the psychiatrist's voice was brisk but still tempered with the kind firmness that had initially allowed Hitsugaya to relax a bit. "My only question is this – Toushiro, can you answer another question for me?"

Hitsugaya felt a quick twinge of mild confusion at the sole use of his given name without an honorific, then remembered the man was foreign and nodded. Dr. Elrick smiled encouragingly.

"Now, I know that somebody has hurt you before, though I do not know when, why, or how. But if you were hurt so badly before this…why did you jump in to rescue the two boys from U.A. High School?"

Toushiro struggled to focus on the question, the sedative closing in on his mind, but he was coherent enough to answer properly. And when the question's meaning hit him, he let his face harden in fierce determination.

"I was the only one who could save them," he said, his voice strong, "so I did. The minute I let my personal problems prevent me from doing my job and protecting two innocent kids is the second I stop being Hitsugaya Toushiro."

The humans fell silent for a moment, processing this, and then the dark-haired man stood up and bowed to him.

"Then I must thank you," the tired-looking man said gravely. "You saved the lives of two of my students."

Shortly after this, the pair of doctors deemed the interview over, and after the cat-policeman brought Hyourinmaru to his wielder everyone was shooed from the room except Dr. Elrick, who sat down in a corner of the room to keep watch while Hitsugaya had access to a blade. Toushiro, for his part, ignored the golden-haired man. He was too tired to care, the sedative doing its work well, and he eventually fell asleep curled around the long blade, hugging the hilt to his chest.

The next two days passed in something of a repetitive blur, with the police and certain 'pro-heroes' coming in to speak with him in between meals and doctor check-ups. The strange spiritual buzzing that had made his skin itch remained constant, at times increasing in intensity, but Toushiro tried to ignore it, since he wasn't seeing side effects yet.

Dr. Watanabe was particularly shocked by how fast he was healing – by the time three days had passed, the gash in his thigh had closed enough for him to stand and walk on it, albeit aided by crutches. But then, on the morning of his last day in the hospital, a tiny mouse wearing a suit walked into his hospital room, followed by a massively muscular blonde man and the dark-haired teacher he'd met before. The odd group was accompanied by a few policemen and Dr. Elrick.

Hitsugaya sat fully up when the group entered his hospital room, Hyourinmaru's unsheathed blade lying across his knees. Dr. Elrick stiffened, then threw his patient a disapproving glance.

"Toushiro, I've told you to keep that sheathed, please."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, gently running his fingers along the keen edge. A sigh escaped him.

"It's Hitsugaya. I told you already, I've been training with this blade for years – I'm not going to accidentally cut myself. And I'm not a suicide risk," he said, but he dutifully slid the Zanpakutou back into his sheath and apologized to the disgruntled dragon in the back of his head. "Have you finally decided where I'm going to be placed?"

The cat-policeman from his first interview stepped forward, a serious look on his face. Hitsugaya was well aware that since he had no records, he would be a tricky individual to monitor. And he also knew that the pro-hero group was very interested in his 'Quirk' ability, or rather, the simple Shunpo he used to take down the Adjuchas. But if that was all they thought he could do, then he could deal with that. They'd already slapped the 'crazy' label on his back, which meant he'd be watched more closely than he really wanted. A slight scowl flickered across his face at the reminder of the PTSD misdiagnosis.

He was a veteran soldier of the two biggest disasters to strike Seireitei since the Quincy extermination when Yamamoto was young. Of course he'd be a little twitchy. He'd learned that paranoia to keep himself alive in battle, and without it he'd probably have died several times over. Even reflexes couldn't compare to experience.

"Yes, we have. Given your rather powerful Quirk, apparent experience, and your lack of records, it will be easiest to place you at a high school with a hero course, as those are typically taught by seasoned professionals who will not only be able to help you develop, but also keep an eye on you," the cat-policeman said. "U.A. High School, which educates the two boys whose lives you saved, has offered to host you there at their on-campus dormitories. I'd recommend taking the offer, as well – U.A. boasts the best hero program in the country."

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, but inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at the news. Installing himself in such a place would allow for his increased ability to locate an individual capable of returning him to Seireitei – heaven knows searching from the shadows hadn't turned up any leads. So he looked up at the dark-haired teacher he remembered from the first conversation – the boys' teacher – and his two oddly-matched companions. Carefully, he allowed a hint of a smile to twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"If I say yes to this arrangement, what happens?" he asked, curious in spite of himself. True, he hadn't been to school of any kind since his awful experiences at the Shinou Academy, and the idea of being around children was rather unpleasant, but at least he'd be in a better position to search for a way home. The mouse-like creature clapped its paws together.

"Well now, that's where I would come in," the mouse tittered pleasantly. "I am Nedzu, the principal of U.A. High School. I think you have already met Aizawa-sensei – he'd be your homeroom teacher if you decided to come with us – and the larger man with me is All Might, the top hero in the country, both in popularity and the number of successful missions he's completed. He's now a teacher at our fine institution."

The two teachers waved, though All Might was much more enthusiastic about the whole thing than Aizawa was, and Hitsugaya felt a sort of sympathy well up in him for the dark-haired man. Dealing with an overly-optimistic man like All Might must be a chore. Nedzu then continued on.

"If you choose to come with us, you'll be discharged from the hospital today, and we'll give you a room in our school dorms. Then as soon as you're settled in, we'll take you to meet your classmates. Then, we'll give you a brief tour of the school," Nedzu concluded. "Since it's already so late in the school year, you'll receive a tutor to help you catch up, and you can start attending classes in the next few days. And because you're currently parentless, your tuition will come out of the state fund, which means the school will provide you with a weekly allowance so long as you participate in the work-study program."

Toushiro considered the situation for a brief moment. He didn't really have many other options, and if he could forge connections enough to get insider information on anyone with dimension-warping Quirks, getting home would be a piece of cake. Besides, with the PTSD tag hanging over his head, he doubted he'd be placed anywhere nearly as free as a high school campus should he choose not to take the offer.

So he looked up and nodded once, unabashedly making eye contact with the furry mouse-person.

"Then I suppose I'm saying yes."

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 **As always, please review with commentary! I can and just may give a plot-based spoiler to the person with the best review ;)**

 **~avtorSola**


	4. Plus (Ultra) One

**A/N: And here's chapter 4! Enter Midoriya Izuku, aka resident cinnamon bun! We're going to be getting into some plot set-up here in the next few chapters, so while the chapters may be important, they're not action-packed. That will be coming, I promise.** **Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows last chapter!**

 **In addition, I said earlier that I calculated some statistics. Cue Midoriya being a secret master tactician and genius.**

 **Also, warnings for Bakugo's language, though you honestly should be expecting his nonsense if you're familiar with the series.**

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It had made the news, and Izuku watched with wide eyes as the footage of the white-haired boy killing the massive creature that had attacked the U.A. Games played on the metro's TV screen again. The entire car was watching in silence, the unforgettable event from four days ago still a shock to most. Bakugo and Todoroki were still reeling from the incident, flabbergasted by both the rescue – which had been entirely necessary, despite all of Bakugo's fuming – and the instant kill of the gigantic creature.

One blink. That had been it, and then the massive _thing_ had split in half, cut cleanly down the middle by the long blade the white-haired boy carried. He'd been injured though, and from what Bakugo said, it had happened when he'd tackled the two U.A. students out of the way. So not only had he instantly killed a beast thirty feet tall, but he'd also done that _while injured_. What sort of Quirk could enable someone to do that?

The ding of the metro doors opening broke off Izuku's hurried muttering, and he exited the train with the crowd of people, scurrying from the train station just ahead of the blonde ball of anger and confusion that was Bakugo following the U.A. Games. Several people called out to him as he passed, cheering and congratulating him absently on his success in the tournament, and he waved hesitantly back at them. The attention had been strange after that first day, and the second day…and the third as well…but he was starting to get the hang of it.

He pulled out his student ID as he walked through the gates of U.A. High School to defuse the alarm, then hurried up the steps through the crush of other students, his backpack knocking against his back. The TV screens inside the building also were playing the insane footage of the sword-wielding teen's intervention, and he glanced up to watch again as he rummaged through his locker, brow furrowing.

"Deku-kun! Hi!"

He whirled around with a startled yelp, books clenched against his chest. Uraraka was there, standing behind him with a pretty smile on her round face. Her brown bob bounced cheerfully, her pretty eyes blinking at him as she leaned up into his face. He couldn't help the sudden thudding of his heart, and his face steamed as he saw that _wow, her eyelashes are so long, and does she have a few freckles on the bridge of her nose too-_

"A-aah! M-morning, Uraraka-san!"

 _So close!_

He breathed a sigh of relief when she backed up a pace and gave him one of those floaty smiles, but only because his heart had decided to stop humming in his ribcage and he could actually _breathe_ again. They walked to class side by side, carefully maneuvering around the crowds of general studies and business students, then finally making their way up the less crowded floors of the school where their classroom was located. The door was open when they arrived, Iida already seated at his desk, poring over the chapter they were supposed to read the night before. Uraraka waved upon seeing the notoriously earnest teenager, bouncing over to him with a grin. Izuku followed, greeting Ashido, Todoroki, and Asui -Tsu-tsuyu-chan! – on the way past.

"Midoriya-kun, can you believe the complexity of the sentences we were assigned last night?" Iida wasn't holding back, already discussing the homework in full vigor, eyes still fixed on the textbook in his hands. "Three gerunds in sentence six alone, not to mention that the entire sentence was in past perfect tense."

Izuku blinked then took out his homework, finding sentence six further down the page. Then he looked at Iida's homework, puzzling over the difference.

"I thought it was in past continuous, Iida-kun," he said after a moment. "Aren't gerunds usually found with the continuous tense?"

Everything was quiet for a minute, and then half the class exploded with wails of 'nooooo' or 'I forgot about that!' Izuku went a bit pink in the face and held up his hands, frantically trying to reassure his classmates. Then Bakugo slammed the door open, looking surly as usual, and slouched over to his desk, where he put his feet up and leaned back to talk to Kirishima. And the happy chaos continued, until the door opened again.

In the blink of an eye, everyone was seated and silent, watching patiently as Aizawa-sensei rolled himself through the doorway, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. Today he had a juice box instead of the usual bagged juice, and he looked less than overjoyed about it. Then again, he looked less than overjoyed about pretty much everything, but today it was definitely more noticeable than usual. Izuku frowned, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. What if something had happened? Maybe All Might's time limit had decreased again? Or maybe there actually _was_ something wrong with his eyes, an injury leftover from the USJ disaster?

But then class began, Aizawa first lecturing them about the internships they'd be getting to choose later in the week. Then he high-tailed it out the door about forty times quicker than usual, and Class 1-Awent straight into the usual routine math, science, and English classes that were standard for their grade level. In English, it turned out that Midoriya had been right about sentence six, but had completely mistranslated sentence two, so everyone had actually received about the same grade. Excluding Mineta, that is, as he had forgotten to do the homework entirely, and Yaoyorozu, who had miraculously gotten everything right (again).

However, towards the very end of their math class, just as they were about to go to lunch, there was a knock on the door. The teacher looked up in surprise, reshuffling her notes in preparation to leave.

"Come in, we've just finished." She said. The door slid open to reveal Aizawa, who was standing at the front of the classroom with a remarkably alert expression in his dark eyes. A little behind him was Principal Nedzu and All Might, who also had incredibly serious expressions. Nedzu climbed up onto the podium at the front of the room with an apologetic wave to the professor, then gestured for All Might to shut the door, and the tall hero did so, stepping back outside the classroom.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have an important announcement to make to the class of 1-A," he apologized, whiskers twitching. The entire class sat up at that, leaning forward in anticipation. "As you all are aware, there was an intervention in a potentially life-threatening situation at the U.A. Sports Festival by a boy supposedly on the run from the rescue hero Elasticity. After he was captured and placed in medical custody, he has been interviewed by both pro-heroes and police. We have jointly determined that he is not a threat to anyone's safety and is likely suffering from head trauma in conjunction with a difficult past, which would account for both his behavior and his lack of information about himself."

Izuku could hear Bakugo's knuckles cracking the laminate of his desk at the mention of the white-haired boy. He flinched a little bit at the noise. In the back of the classroom, he knew Todoroki was also stewing, puzzling over the mysterious character that had saved his life. Nedzu didn't even pause.

"However, his skill with his Quirk and combat techniques are far beyond what any normal fifteen-year-old could possess," the mouse said, his voice turning stern. "And beyond this, he does not appear to exist on any form of official documentation. However, since the police cannot justify keeping him behind bars, it has been decided that he will remain in a controlled environment where pro-heroes can keep an eye on him. To this end, I volunteered U.A. for this task."

The sudden ripple of realization echoed through the class, nervous titters whispering between Kaminari and Sero. Nedzu raised a paw, and Aizawa stepped forward, glaring drolly out from underneath his dark fringe. All Might was still noticeably outside, his voice distorted by the closed door but still faintly audible.

"Obviously, as some of you have realized, this means he is going to be placed in your class," the disheveled man grunted. "As my Quirk is suited for disabling others' Quirks, I'm the best suited to monitor and observe him. But before any of you kids jump to conclusions, there is something that the teachers and police think that you should know about this boy."

His tone was dark and grim, almost pained, and that alone was enough to make even Bakugo look mildly surprised. Izuku could feel his heart pounding in his chest, anticipation building. And then the words came out, and suddenly all that suspense was dropping into horror.

"He has seen far, far too much violence for a fifteen-year-old," Aizawa said quietly. "And he bears scars of those encounters, large scars, both mental and physical. Do not needlessly antagonize him, and if he acts hostile for any reason, try to placate him and report the incident – we are trying to allow him a safe environment for his mind to recuperate enough to give us clues as to his origin. Do I make myself clear?"

There was silence from the stunned class, and both Principal Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei correctly took that lack of response as agreement. After all, it took a lot to silence Bakugo and the other rowdy members of Class 1-A. So then Nedzu turned to the door and clapped his paws cheerfully, as if the warning he'd just given to the members of class 1-A hadn't been ominous.

"All Might, if you would?" he called, and then the door was flung open to reveal a smiling, muscled man in a golden pinstripe suit, who stood protectively beside a smaller figure. All Might held the door open for the smaller person, allowing them to slowly limp inside, hampered by a pair of crutches. The class tried to hold their breath as the shock of bright white hair and pale golden skin greeted them, wary of upsetting the teenager who had singlehandedly destroyed a creature taller than a house. The boy stopped beside Aizawa at the front of the classroom, his U.A. uniform perfectly creased. Izuku had to admit that the teenager's clean, well-kept appearance surprised him. He'd actually been expecting the mysterious kid to be more like Bakugo, all rough edges and spiteful comments, but except for the crutches and the bandages wrapped around his temple, he looked almost picture-perfect.

And then the white-haired teenager lifted his head, and Izuku quickly took all of those thoughts back, flinching away from the arctic glare and cold scowl that snarled the teenager's otherwise attractive face into terrifying heartlessness. All Might patted him on the shoulder, apparently unafraid of the brooding sneer on the white-haired teen's face.

"Go ahead and introduce yourself, young man," the Symbol of Peace said. "Greet your new classmates with a smile!"

Instantly, the air felt heavy and thick, like syrup, and the white-haired boy shot a dark glare up at All Might, the impossibly cold emerald of his eyes glittering. The boy's upper lip curled in a snarl.

"First, give my blade back," he spat. "You had no right to take it."

Principal Nedzu intervened here with a frown.

"It is against school policy to allow students weapons outside of training," the mouse said placatingly. The white-haired boy rolled his eyes with a sneer. Izuku shivered. The teenager would be very handsome if he wasn't so scary.

"Because your Quirks can't be more destructive than a blade, obviously," he drawled sarcastically, his fists clenched so tightly on the crutches in his hands that his knuckles had gone white with strain, and the metal trembled faintly. "…you have no right to keep that sword from me. You have no idea what it means to me."

Izuku opened his mouth a fraction, starting to see the cause of the boy's behavior as he analyzed the other teenager's body language, but just as he was about to start speaking, Bakugo let out a loud snort of derision.

"Oh, what a fuckin' pansy," he mocked. "Boo hoo, you can't have your stupid sword. If it's that big a deal to you, why don't you just chain the fuckin' thing in its sheath or something?"

Izuku shrank back into his chair as Aizawa rounded on Bakugo with a stern glare, but then Nedzu followed Bakugo's red eyes to where they were glued to the white-haired teenager's shaking hands and the white medical bracelet clipped around his wrist. The mouse principal appeared to consider this for a moment, then looked at All Might and nodded silently above the new student's head.

"That would be an acceptable compromise for the time being," Nedzu said decisively, and almost immediately the white-haired boy's head shot up, his brow and dark scowl smoothing into surprise. Something like relief shot across the faintly golden face, some sort of deep-rooted fear loosening in his posture, and he let himself slump forward. The trembling eased a bit.

"…thank you." Without the bite of cornered fury in his voice, Izuku abruptly realized that the boy, though still intimidating, seemed almost nervous, as if he was unsure of what to expect from a classroom of twenty students. Hesitantly, the teenager dipped his head, the closest he could get to a bow while stuck with crutches.

"My name is Hitsugaya Toushiro," he introduced himself politely. "…It's nice to meet you all."

Izuku bit his lip at the flat sound of the second sentence and glanced anxiously around at Uraraka and Iida to see if they'd heard the same insincerity in the boy's voice. It had almost seemed like he'd wanted to add on to his introduction, but hadn't quite managed to drum up the willpower, courage, or desire to do so. Uraraka's brown gaze met his eyes briefly – she'd heard it too, then.

Hitsugaya was directed to sit at a desk squeezed into the back of the room, and he quietly made his way there on his crutches. Aizawa followed him to the back of the room, as did All Might, and then Principal Nedzu waved his paws.

"Alright kids, go eat lunch." The order to leave was clear, and slowly, everyone in Class 1-A except the mysterious Hitsugaya left the room. Izuku shot one last glance at the other teenager, noting that the violent shaking of the teenager's fingertips hadn't ceased, and then quietly exited the room, following after Uraraka and Iida.

At lunch, almost all of Class 1-A grouped together, pushing a few tables together so they could talk about the new addition to the class. Even Bakugo sat with them, though he was separated from the rest by Kirishima and he was pretending to not be paying attention. For a moment, it was utterly silent, everyone picking at their food in confusion and anxiety. And then Hagakure broke the silence, her empty-seeming uniform bouncing around as she talked.

"What do you think his Quirk is?" she mused. "Do you think he can teleport like that weird smoky villain from the USJ?"

Iida, who was sitting between Uraraka and Midoriya, raised his hand and adjusted his glasses, a glum look passing across his face.

"I doubt it, Hagakure-san. He can't have been teleporting, otherwise the giant monster wouldn't have been harmed. It must have been a speed technique of some kind…a speed technique to make mine seem worthless…"

As Iida buried his head in his hands, Izuku hesitantly brought out the journal he'd been writing in earlier, looking over the brief analysis he'd made of the white-hair- er, _Hitsugaya-kun's_ Quirk. Tsuyu nodded at him.

"Midoriya-chan, what do you think?" she asked, drawing attention to the fact that the green-haired teenager had one of his 'Hero Analysis' notebooks out. Like clockwork, all of Class 1-A except the snarling Bakugo leaned in eagerly, causing Izuku to stutter.

"I-I ah, uhm…uh, I was doing some calculations earlier, because I'm pretty sure it is a speed technique of some kind – or at least, I _was_ …"

At that, Todoroki's interest was piqued, and his heterochromatic gaze locked onto Izuku's freckled face, blinking once.

"…You don't think it's a speed technique?" he asked curiously. Izuku shook his head, putting the notebook down in front of his lunch. Yaoyorozu and Iida leaned in to look at it, as did Tokoyami and a few others.

"I don't think so," Izuku explained. "After all, Hitsugaya-kun disappeared and reappeared so quickly that we barely lost sight of him at all, and when I looked up how quickly people can process images, I found that we only need thirteen milliseconds to recognize an image. And since I couldn't really estimate how far he went in that movement, I just assumed that he wouldn't lose speed over shorter distances, and tried to calculate how quickly he'd be able to get behind me and therefore disappear completely from my sight. Since making a movement like that would probably require him to move three-quarters of a meter, I gave him the maximum 13 milliseconds to make that movement and calculated the speed…and it's just impossible. He'd be going from standing still to moving over 200 km an hour _at a minimum_ in less than a millisecond, and I don't think the human body can handle that kind of instant acceleration and deceleration."

Tokoyami looked up from the string of calculations in some confusion. Everyone else at the table looked at Izuku with some trepidation, and no little awe over Hitsugaya's insane Quirk.

"Then what could his Quirk be?" the bird-headed teenager asked. Izuku bit his lip, taking the notebook back and starting to pick at his rice again.

"I don't know. Some kind of time-warping Quirk? But that's not possible, otherwise he wouldn't have been injured rescuing Kacchan and Todoroki-kun, but…"

The rest of the table tuned Izuku out as he started muttering and theorizing, contemplating the information that the broccoli-haired student had put forth. Then Todoroki sighed, letting a puff of chilly mist escape from his mouth.

"Regardless of what his Quirk actually is, it's very powerful," he pointed out evenly, "And he knows how to effectively use it, as well, otherwise he would not have leapt in to save Bakugo and I."

At that, Bakugo exploded on his end of the table, looking surly as usual.

"You fuckheads, it's not a speed Quirk or any of that bullshit," he spat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't know what the fuck it is, but it's not a stupid speed Quirk."

Even as Class 1-A turned to stare at the blonde, Todoroki intervened, his heterochromatic eyes narrowing to thin slits of brown and blue.

"So he actually did something to you, Bakugo-san?" Todoroki asked, his voice stiff with trepidation. Bakugo snarled.

"Yeah, the little shit wrenched my arms behind my back. Felt like I was trying to break out of a fucking iron straightjacket. You lot tell me which fucking Quirk can do that with apparently-invisible handcuffs or whatever on top of making him a fucking bullet."

That seemed to break Izuku from his thoughts, and the green-headed teenager took this information in stride.

"Maybe it's spatial manipulation, then." Izuku chimed in again. "Maybe Hitsugaya-kun can manipulate spacetime and gravity enough to warp dimensions. I can't imagine that being a real Quirk though – it's far too complex to be easily used when he saved you, Kacchan."

"Shut up, Deku! I didn't need to be fuckin' saved by a pansy who whines just because he can't have his fuckin' kill-toy," the explosive teenager growled aggressively, glaring at his classmates, Izuku in particular. "Especially not if that shithead couldn't even jump in without getting his fuckin' leg nearly sliced off."

Kirishima grinned a bit at his friend, elbowing him in the ribs.

"What, Bakugo, you feeling sorry for him after seeing him hobble around on those crutches?" the redhead asked with a grin, causing Bakugo to vehemently deny the accusation and slam his hand down on the table loudly enough to break Izuku from his (second) train of thought. Quickly, the lunch discussion-group devolved into chaos, Bakugo at the center of it all, and all thoughts of Hitsugaya were temporarily set aside in favor of avoiding the food sent flying by the blonde boy's temper. And if Deku ended up covered in rice, well, Bakugo definitely hadn't done it on purpose.

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 **Outstanding reviews will be rewarded with spoilers! (I'll ask if you want one first, though)**


	5. Dry Skin?

**A/N: And here it comes. The plot point I've been building up to. (Lol, have fun Toushiro)**

 **Thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and follows last chapter!**

* * *

After settling into his dorm room, being given a set of uniforms, and being provided with a few spare sets of clothing by concerned faculty members – mostly All Might – Hitsugaya was finally allowed to sit down in the dorms, Hyourinmaru's sheathed length lying over his knees. The blade had been locked closed by set of steel cuffs, one on the hilt and one on the sheath, but he wasn't complaining. It wasn't as if the humans knew that the sheath was dissolvable at his will, and he wasn't planning on letting them know this about him.

A sudden spike of pain shot through his temples, fading as soon as it had come, and he grunted in annoyance at the discomfort. The foreign spiritual hum had increased in strength since he'd arrived at the U.A. and it seemed the exposure was finally starting to take its toll on him. Slowly, he leaned forward, considering the unfamiliar almost-reiatsu with calculating precision, even as it made his skin itch violently. He'd been able to pinpoint the source today, and hadn't been surprised to find that the source of strange reiatsu came from All Might. It had also, oddly enough, emanated from one of his new classmates, and he got the vague impression of disembodied souls dancing around their heads.

If it hadn't been affecting his reishi-made body, he wouldn't have considered it so threatening. It rather gave off the same feel as a Zanpakutou, like All Might and the plain-looking kid with the green hair were drawing strength from other, half-separate souls. But whatever is was, its aura was seeping into his reishi and slowly saturating it.

Absently, he scratched at his wrist where the itch was worst, the silky-hard texture of Hyourinmaru's scales rippling under his nails. And then he froze and slowly lowered his gaze to his wrist. A soft breath escaped him, wonder and concern mixed into the same solitary gasp. A patch of pale, silver-blue scales covered his wrist, spreading over the underside of his palm and trailing about midway down his forearm before his gold-tinged skin reappeared. Gingerly, he prodded the scaled surface and was shocked to find that it felt hard, like diamond or steel, and that it also flexed slightly under his touch. But he could also feel the softness of his fingertip and the scritchy talc of his fingernail with the scaled-over patch on his forearm.

What was going on?

Carefully, he relaxed, and felt some sort of shiver travel through his skin. Almost instantly, the scales seemed to fold inward on themselves, revealing his skin seamlessly. In less than a second he couldn't see even the faintest sign of scales. And then it hit him. Was this the result of the odd reiatsu emitted by All Might and the green-haired boy? And if so, what exactly was happening to him? Obviously his reishi was reacting somehow.

Curious, he tried to reach for that feeling again, to flex whatever muscle had pulled scales to the surface of his skin. It took a few tries to trigger it, but when it happened the second time the patch of scales had spread nearly over his entire arm, all the way up to the shoulder. He yelped in surprise, pulling back the short sleeve of his t-shirt to expose the pale silver-blue scales covering his skin. Gingerly, he tapped the scales again, surprised by the tough layer of protection that they formed despite being soft and silky to the touch. Then as a final test he relaxed again, watching in awe as the scales vanished. While it looked like the strange spiritual energy emitting from All Might and the plain boy had already started to affect him, he was at least confident that the side effects thus far were controllable.

Then he shook himself and stood up, slinging Hyourinmaru's sheathed length over his back with the length of soft, dark teal leather that the school had attached the sheath to. The dragon's blade settled comfortably between his shoulder blades, the ice drake's voice a pleasant hum in the back of his mind. The dragon had been quiet lately, observing the strangeness of the new dimension and watching his master's actions keenly.

 _"_ _You're troubled, little one."_

Hitsugaya paused for a moment, then huffed irritably and started up the stairs to his dorm room, limping along on the crutches he'd been commanded to use by the kissy old lady. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth despite himself.

 _"_ _You're still calling me little one even though I'm tall enough to wear you on my hip now?"_

Hyourinmaru laughed at him – the only creature who ever could and get away with it without being frozen solid.

 _"_ _Don't fool yourself, you know full well my sheath would still be hitting your ankles. I'm not a blade made to be worn at your hip – even at your adult height I am too long,"_ the Zanpakutou spirit teased gently. Then the dragon sobered, becoming gentle. _" I speak of the bracelet on your wrist. You are troubled by what it says."_

Toushiro tensed, a hand on his doorknob. Slowly, his fingers started to tighten, knuckles turning white. Hyourinmaru's knowledge was the one thing he knew he'd never be able to escape, and though the dragon would not do more than nudge him in the right direction, he would not be steered wrong. The young captain swallowed.

 _"…_ _yes. Yes, I am,"_ he replied, easing the door open carefully and flopping down on his stomach on the bed. Hesitantly, he glanced once again at the stiff plastic band on his wrist, the one with the medical warning about the traumatic retrograde amnesia and the misdiagnosed PTSD label. The accusing letters stared back, and he broke off his gaze. _"I don't believe it."_

 _"_ _Little one…"_ Hyourinmaru's disapproval was a punch to the gut. Toushiro closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the dragon's displeasure futilely.

 _"_ _It's been twenty years, Hyourinmaru. I think I'm over it by now."_

 _"_ _You have shut yourself down for all of that time, and Hinamori's avoidance of you did not help,"_ the Zanpakutou rebuked gently. _"You have always been remarkably accomplished at avoiding things you fear, and the horrors the wars inflicted upon you are easy to cope with when you do not think about them."_

Toushiro slid Hyourinmaru's sheath over his head and placed the long blade beside him on the mattress. A sort of numbness was stealing the strength from his limbs, mostly due to the other half of his soul pointing out a number of facts he didn't want to face.

 _"_ _I'll just continue to not think about it then,"_ he decided, _"I can't afford to be sidelined. Not now, not ever. PTSD – maybe I had it, at one point. Maybe I'm displaying a few symptoms. But now I'm fine; I've learned to deal with it."_

 _"_ _But not to confront it and heal from it."_

Toushiro's stomach twisted painfully, and he curled on his side, facing the wall. His Soul Phone, designed to look like an iPhone 7 – which a charger had been found for, somehow – lay on the nightstand, an alarm already set. It was all the thing was good for now anyway – the signal didn't reach Seireitei, making it a glorified noisemaker. He had his first day of school tomorrow, and he needed rest to deal with errant children and continue searching for whatever Quirk had pulled him into this new dimension.

 _"_ _Toushiro…"_

 _"_ _Good night, Hyourinmaru."_

* * *

The next morning, he woke up to the soft jingling of his alarm clock playing an old lullaby from Rukongai. He'd managed to record Hinamori singing it in her hospital room after Aizen's betrayal and had used it to wake himself up ever since. He got up gingerly, the wrapped bandages around his thigh itching his skin. The wound should be nearly healed by now, he knew, but he had the sneaking suspicion that removing the bandaging now without permission from the people watching him would only make them more suspicious of his mental state.

He showered in the bathroom he shared with the empty room next door and dressed quickly, fumbling a bit with the tie before managing to completely smooth the uniform out. With a pass of his hand and flicker of his reiatsu, he froze the water in his hair, then shook his head, sending the powdery snow tinkling to the floor and leaving his white hair completely dry. Then he picked up the messenger-style bag in which he'd put the notebooks and pencils he'd been given for study purposes, threw it over his shoulder, and without a moment's hesitation seized Hyourinmaru as well. Then he left, buckling the blade over his shoulder as he fluidly descended the stairs and left the dorms.

Other students gaped as he loped past them, his steps effortlessly light as he ran toward the main building. He'd abandoned the crutches in his room, unwilling to needlessly hamper himself when he was perfectly well aware that the only remnant of his wound was faint pink line of split skin. It would likely aggravate the people keeping an eye on him, but he _had_ at least left the bandages on, and he was well acquainted with the exaggerated speed of his healing, being so prone to violent incidents. If anyone protested – well, at the least, he would be correct concerning his own body.

He vaulted effortlessly over a railing, startling a girl with long greenish hair and large round eyes, then slowed his pace to a brisk walk. The endless sprinting run he was so used to would seem abnormally fast to the humans here, which would fit well with his supposed 'Quirk', but he'd already gotten in trouble once for breaking the law regarding public Quirk usage. It would probably be better to restrict his physical limits to those of the humans for now.

He headed off to the large cafeteria, where a few of the sporadic other boarding students were filling plates with rice and buttered toast and grilled fish among other things. Hitsugaya took a bowl of rice porridge and some pickles for himself, eating in the hurried but neat manner he'd learned in the Rukongai with his Granny, then put the dishes up and made his way to the classroom he'd been showed yesterday. Pausing outside the door, he gritted his teeth quietly, cursing the lack of information concerning possible wielders of dimensional Quirks that he'd picked up on. The law forbidding the public use of Quirks for anything other than self-defense was proving very problematic for his search, and he could only hope that he would be allowed greater leeway to nose around as a 'hero-in-training'.

But first he had to open the door.

The soft chatter of voices on the other side of the massive door was clearly audible with his keen shinigami hearing, and the sound of the cheerful voices froze him in place. A sort of weight settled on his shoulders, cold realization chilling his blood. If he hadn't become a shinigami, he could have had this sort of easy camaraderie with friends his psychological age. If he hadn't become a captain, he could have had this easy friendship with the members of his division. And now here he was, a seasoned warrior who had killed in cold blood, an experienced, jaded fighter all too aware of the childhood he'd lost, about to enter a world of children where he no longer belonged.

The thought made a bitter smile cross his face, but just as he had lifted his foot to step forward and open the door, the young man with green hair trotted around the corner and offered a nervous smile. Hitsugaya paused, the itching, now slightly pleasant burn of the strange aura surrounding this young man only slightly off-putting, and after a hesitant moment, he tried to force a smile back. It didn't really work, but at the sight of his lips quirking upwards even that fractional amount, the green-haired kid appeared to relax and walked directly up to the door.

"A-ah, you're…you're Hitsugaya-kun, right?" the broccoli-headed kid asked, his chunky red sneakers squeaking a little bit on the tile floor. Slowly, Toushiro nodded once, simultaneously wary of engaging the teenager in conversation but also a hair curious about one of the twenty other students he'd have to put up with until he found his way home. The small movement was enough for the curly-haired boy, whose smile then grew into something much more cheerful than nervous.

"I'm Midoriya Izuku," he introduced himself, the happy bounce in the other boy's tone of voice blending well with the telltale neutral calmness of someone with an earnest, honest heart. Hitsugaya blinked at the green-haired boy in front of him, noticing a smattering of cute freckles sprinkled on the other teenager's cheeks. Midoriya was a just a hair shorter than him, but the almost-curl in his dark green hair made up for the faint height difference. Toushiro swallowed hard, dropping his gaze from the teenager's face to the floor.

"…pleased to make your acquaintance, Midoriya-san," Hitsugaya replied after a moment, still unsure of how he wanted to deal with the odd predicament he found himself in. But Midoriya, as if magically sensing his hesitancy and confusion, chose then to open the door and step into the classroom. The boy looked back over his shoulder with a hint of cheerful expectation, ignoring the way his classmates all turned to stare at the stranger in the doorway.

"C-come on, Hitsugaya-kun. I can introduce you to the class representative," he offered, another smile on the boy's face, this one ridiculously bright. It was like a sucker punch to the gut, the guileless kind-heartedness of that smile so terribly familiar and yet so foreign. He hadn't seen a smile like that since Aizen had defected.

 _Shiro-chan, I got you some watermelon – Mou, Shiro-chan, that's mean! Quit spitting seeds at me!_

Without realizing it, Hitsugaya noticeably softened, the hard slant of his icy emerald glare melting around the edges, and as he quietly followed Midoriya over to Iida's desk, the rest of the class stifled their laughter. Sero leaned back in his chair, grinning back at Tokoyami, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu.

"Midoriya-kun sniped another one with that sunshine effect of his," the human tape dispenser whispered through the low rumble of conversation, and Yaoyorozu giggled behind hand at the observation. Tokoyami also stifled a smile on his beak. Even Todoroki, who had brooded over Hitsugaya's appearance since the rescue, looked amused by how easily the white-haired boy had been taken in by Midoriya's unintentional magnetism. Only Bakugo was still scowling. Tokoyami shook his head, feathers rustling, a sort of resignation on his face.

"I suppose it's good to know that, whoever he is, he's not immune to Midoriya's sunshine," the birdlike teenager said with a sigh.

Then the door opened again, revealing a sleeping-bag clad Aizawa, and within a single heartbeat everyone in the class had taken their seats. The dark-haired man rolled into the room, only standing up and unzipping the sleeping bag when he was behind the teacher's podium. The man rubbed at his eyes sleepily. And then he stared, eyes locking onto the newest student in the class.

"Hitsugaya-kun, where are your crutches?" he asked, his voice quite toneless. Instantly, the entire class let out small noises of surprise and disapproval, but Hitsugaya just shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

"I no longer require assistance to walk," he replied simply, and when Aizawa opened his mouth to speak the white-haired boy held up a hand, a sort of nameless warning flickering across the green of his eyes. "I know myself. A simple slice such as that injury will take me at most six days to heal fully."

The class gaped at his claim, and then stiffened in surprise when Aizawa's eyes narrowed in thought and there was no immediate rebuttal.

"…Am I to assume you know this-"

"From prior experience. Yes."

Hitsugaya's tone was curt, and he laced his fingers together with all the poise of a well-polished businessman prepared to end a set of fruitless negotiations. But Aizawa's expression, far from becoming sour considering the harshness of the teenager's tone, inexplicably relaxed into concern and quiet understanding. A sort of sadness invaded his tired features.

"Make sure to see Recovery Girl during lunch then, just to have her confirm that you're clear."

Whatever Hitsugaya had been expecting, it wasn't that. The ease with which Aizawa had dropped the issue caught him off guard, leaving a strange sort of confused vulnerability on the white-haired boy's face, as if he wasn't used to being treated with such trust. But almost as quickly as it had come, the flash of human vulnerability faded back into the blank mask of emotionless apathy.

"I will."

After that, class continued on as usual. Aizawa took about fifteen minutes to explain that the upcoming internships were serious business, and that the students would soon be receiving lists of the various hero agencies where they could undergo their field training. This, of course, left the class in a tizzy, with everyone excitedly chattering on about what they expected to get out of their field training. Hitsugaya, from his seat at the very back of the room, listened with mild interest, wondering if he would be able to use that time to better search for people with dimension-warping Quirks. If not, then he wasn't really interested in the extra effort required.

And then some guy with an obnoxiously loud voice and a swoop of spiked yellow hair walked in, trading spots with Aizawa, who rolled back into his yellow sleeping bag and flopped out the door. The students all pulled out notebooks and pencils, looking expectantly up at the teacher in their midst as he began writing on the board. Toushiro had to stifle a groan of resignation. English. They were learning English. This was almost unfair to the poor kids. Shinigami, as literal human souls, had the unique ability to speak, read, and write in almost every language due the innate human ability to communicate. And Hitsugaya was especially practiced in European languages, having patrolled there many times as a seated officer in the Tenth Division.

And in addition to that…if the students were actually studying high-school level material, then he'd be lightyears ahead of them in anything with a practical application, like math, science, or languages. His Advanced Kido Theory course at the Shinou Academy had taught him how to apply physics and calculate multivariable calculus functions in seconds, and the basic Healing Kido class had been fraught with chemical mixtures for antidotes and complex biological concepts to evaluate cellular reconstruction.

That being said, his highly analytical brain had utterly fallen short in any sort of subjective course, such as Japanese Literature, or any of the art classes Shinou Academy had required as electives. He could deal well enough with political nuance and language, but when it came to stupid commentary on the human condition? Not a chance. He didn't have the patience.

So as he watched the loud blonde man carefully go over the uses of the gerund, he opened one of his notebooks and started writing down everything he knew about the dimension he was trapped in, carefully cataloguing the information in his neat handwriting. He needed some way to access a database of all the criminals caught using their Quirks in public in the past few weeks to truly start making headway, but accessing that kind of data would likely be difficult, and he knew he didn't have enough experience with computers to hack for that kind of data. Frowning, he kept writing, Hyourinmaru humming in the back of head. Slowly, a nascent plan began to form in the back of head – but it required a hell of a lot of acting to pull off, and he wasn't exactly the best at hiding his true emotions.

His skin itched – the same wrist that had been so problematic and scaly last night – and he glanced down in consternation to see that his tension had caused whatever that little trigger was to be pulled, allowing the patch of scales to spread across his skin again. This time the scales had covered his knuckles and fingers, his nails turning cold and white and pointed, protruding from his fingertips like claws. This time the itch had also spread across his back, and as he felt the skin there ripple into scales, a sort of twisting, pulling sensation stretched the taut muscle of his back. He froze, then took a deep breath and relaxed the strange not-quite muscle that had triggered the change, watching with trepidation as his skin once again cleared of any reptilian armor. Then, once he was absolutely sure he'd seen it, he turned back to his notes.

And with a sudden, slightly terrifying apprehension, he wrote down the only thing that would explain his sudden change.

 _Am I developing a "Quirk?"_

* * *

 **Hopefully nobody saw that coming. XD**

 **And before you all ask me, "Wait, where is the logic in this?! Why are you giving the OP character here a powerup?!" then remember - Izuku is technically OP as well, by that definition. And YES - there is a logical reason as to why Hitsugaya has developed the Quirk. I've already dropped some hints. The full explanation will come later in the story and is related to the plot, so NO I am not spoiling it now.**

 **Also,**

 **Merry Christmas, Happy (belated) Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and Happy every other winter holiday I can't think of :)**


	6. An Irrational Feeling

**A/N: And Hitsugaya finally meets Bakugo.** **Well, crap.**

 **Also, Hitsugaya gets all nostalgic towards the end.**

 **(HOW IN BLUE BLAZES DOES THIS STORY HAVE OVER 100 FAVORITES ALREADY WHAT)**

* * *

The first day had passed quickly and quietly. The teachers, knowing just how new to the school that he was, refrained from calling on him, and it appeared that all the teachers and school staff had been informed that he had been given special permission to carry Hyourinmaru around. And the students in the class seemed quiet around him as well, though whether that was a byproduct of his inclusion or because they were decent kids who remained quiet for their teachers, he didn't know. But slowly the classes slid by, English followed by math, which was then followed by Japanese literature.

And then, around noon, they were released for one hour to eat lunch. Toushiro split off from the group of chattering students, slipping away to go see Recovery Girl, as Aizawa had told him to do. She was noticeably unhappy that he wasn't walking around on crutches, but when she agreed to change the bandaging her expression changed. Just as Hitsugaya expected, the wound had long since faded to a thin pink scar on his thigh, completely healed. It seemed Recovery Girl was surprised by this. But after some careful examination, she had to agree that the wound was fully healed and gave him the clear to abandon both the crutches and the bandaging. Then she kept him a few moments more, gently asking after how he'd slept the previous night or if anything in U.A. was confusing him. He'd had to fight to stop himself from scowling, but he knew that the stifled grimace hadn't been missed.

What made everything worse was that his annoyance at being treated like glass seemed to feed into the PTSD diagnosis in an endless loop. So he'd tried his best to be polite, sitting still as she'd checked the wound on his head as well, and had been released only twenty minutes into the lunch period, only in a slightly bad mood.

He carefully made his way to the large cafeteria he'd eaten breakfast in, trying to blend in a well as he could, but it seemed that everyone he made eye contact with already knew him. Several girls squealed faintly as he passed, boys staring openly, mixed admiration and apprehension in their eyes. He had to grind his teeth together to keep himself from snapping, the open gawking so terribly reminiscent to the Shinou Academy that he wanted to punch something.

But then there was a voice behind him, both calm and cold at once.

"Hitsugaya-san."

Toushiro glanced over his shoulder, tray in his hands, to see the heterochromatic kid he'd knocked out of the Hollow's path at the weird tournament thing nearly a week ago standing there, hands in his pockets. Instinctively, Hitsugaya tensed, analyzing the other boy's posture – relaxed, but anxious, with shuffling feet that belied some kind of nervousness. Slowly, gaze flickering to his new classmate's face, Toushiro understood that the kid was nervous. And then, almost immediately afterwards, he realized that he hadn't yet responded when he was obviously meant to.

"…yes?" he asked belatedly, still on the natural alert that came with years of near-death experiences. The heterochromatic kid took a deep breath.

"My name is Todoroki Shouto," the boy started off a little shaky, but his calm composure quickly won out, smoothing his fluctuating tone, and then the kid _bowed_. "You saved my life last week, from the huge monster. I wanted to thank you. You were hurt because of me."

Toushiro stared at him incredulously for a moment, mouth hanging open. He'd never had a human thank him for saving their life before, and only rarely had shinigami ever done the same. But then his captain's persona took over, years of experience smoothing his face into unruffled serenity.

"I was hurt because of my own carelessness, Todoroki-san," Toushiro said after a moment, his expression still very blank. "You have absolutely nothing to thank me for."

Todoroki straightened back up, looking a bit confused by the reply, and Toushiro fought down the sudden pang of guilt at the realization that it was his presence allowing the Hollows to claw their way through the barrier.

"You didn't have to jump in and put yourself at risk, though," the boy pointed out, nonplussed, and Hitsugaya smiled a wan, tired smile.

"Yes, I did," he countered. "I was the only one who could. If I had not intervened, and you had died, then it would have been my fault, because I had the capacity to save you and chose to ignore it."

That seemed to catch Todoroki's attention, and the boy shifted, blinking his blue-and-brown eyes with a hint of consternation. But Toushiro had to give the kid credit – his gaze didn't waver in the slightest.

"What are you trying to say, Hitsugaya-san?" the teenager asked, his tone a little bit strained. Toushiro shrugged carelessly, resigned.

"If you are born with power and do not use it to assist others, you are the worst kind of person," he said calmly, drawing startled looks from several students around him, Todoroki included. "Because if you have the power to help, and you do not, then you have voluntarily _chosen_ to ignore the suffering and need of another person. You have been selfish enough to ignore the need of another for your own reasons. One who is powerless does not have this choice – they cannot help no matter how much they wish to. But if I, who had every capability of saving your life, had chosen not to do so, then I would be every bit as despicable as the creature which attacked you."

Todoroki stared, clearly taken aback, then swallowed hard.

"There have to be exceptions, though," he argued, the slightest hint of defensive panic crossing his scarred face. "You can't place that kind of burden on the shoulders of, say, a little kid, even if they have some miracle Quirk."

Hitsugaya turned away, a mirthless, cold smile on his face. The naivety of humans, especially human children, always surprised him. He'd been forced to wield a blade at the tender age of 75 years old – about 7 years old, physically speaking. His first time seeing a man die had been his best friend when he was 76. His first time seeing another man ripped in half had been not even six months later, on a patrol as a Sixteenth Seat. And his first kill of another shinigami had been twenty years ago, when a demented Quincy had taken everything he was and twisted him into a doll, a puppet meant for murder alone.

He both hated and envied it, that sweet innocence he'd once had.

"Power is power," he said, anger starting to bubble in his voice. "It doesn't matter how old you are. It doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't even matter what kind of power you have. If you can help and you choose not to, you bring evil on others through your inaction."

He could feel Todoroki's faint, human reiatsu start to churn in disbelief and confusion, the roiling sensation grating furiously against his patience. The heterochromatic teenager took a step forward.

"So you think that some little seven-year-old has the _obligation_ to save others if-"

Hitsugaya whirled around, something in the other boy's calm but quizzical voice setting him off like nothing else could.

"Look, I don't know what kind of golden dream world you live in, but I didn't grow up in such a precious, sheltered environment," Toushiro snarled, cold fire flashing in his eyes. "But if that seven-year-old has the mental capability to handle the situation and the ability to do so, then _yes_. If that little seven-year-old has the ability and maturity to pick up a sword and fight, then _yes_ , he has the _duty_ to fight to protect others who can't protect themselves."

Todoroki's expression was priceless, and Toushiro stiffened when he realized the cafeteria was utterly silent, watching them. Belatedly, he realized that his hands were trembling violently, and that the plastic medical cuff around his wrist was blinking with some sort of yellow light. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to slow his heart and quell the adrenaline racing through his blood. And then, without warning, he heard Todoroki speak again.

"…I didn't mean to upset you, Hitsugaya-san," the teenager said, his voice still calm, but now carrying a hint of concern that was remarkably empathetic. "I was just trying to figure out where you were coming from."

Instantly, the built-up anger festering in his heart seemed to lose direction, and he bit his lip. This sort of aimless rage had become commonplace for him after the Quincy War, but he didn't know how to deal with it in a world where going Bankai for no reason would be both illegal and utterly terrifying for anyone watching. His skin itched, his back and neck now the main areas where the itch was worst, and he cursed ferociously as his anger smoldered, further heated up by the incessant itching reaction to the weird spiritual energy hanging around the Midoriya kid and All Might. Carefully, he tried to relax that weird, not-quite muscle, trying to calm the itching, and after a few tries was gratified to feel the strange sensation disappear. The small success calmed him somewhat, making the directionless rage containable for the time being.

"…yeah, I kind of…" and suddenly Toushiro had no idea why he was so angry. This boy was _fifteen_. Sure, their psychological and physical ages were the same, but Hitsugaya had been through a series of events far beyond a child's capacity. How on earth could he expect a _fifteen-year-old_ to possibly understand precisely how jaded and tired that war could make someone?

"…I was being unfair to you," Toushiro admitted then, fighting his pride to get the words out. "I'm sorry. My point was that you don't have to thank me – I just did what I had to do."

Throughout the entire apology, Todoroki remained quiet, his mismatched gaze fixed firmly on Hitsugaya's face. Only when the young shinigami was finished did he smile faintly, a kind of understanding evident in the smoothness of his features. He half-turned away, then looked back, as if waiting.

"I think I understand," The teenager said. "Are you coming? Class 1-A is all sitting together so you can meet us all at once."

Toushiro blinked in surprise, then followed Todoroki's body language until he saw the giant nest of tables in one corner of the cafeteria. Without warning he felt a little choked up, and as the green-haired kid, Midoriya, looked over his shoulder and smiled that bright, Hinamori-esque smile of his, Toushiro almost had to suck in a sharp breath to prevent himself from reacting. After a long pause, during which Todoroki waited patiently, he nodded and followed the heterchromatic kid over to the table, where expectant smiles and slight nervous apprehension surrounded him on all sides.

"Eh…Y-you can sit here, Hitsugaya-kun!" Midoriya chimed, that pure smile of his trembling with slight nerves, and as Todoroki slid into his place beside a tall girl with a dark ponytail, Hitsugaya carefully put his tray down, trying his best to ignore the strange twisting of his stomach and the innocent eyes all staring curiously at him.

"…Thank you, Midoriya-san."

* * *

Izuku had to stop himself from flinching as Hitsugaya sat down, the long sword strapped to his back only making him more intimidating than he had been yesterday. They'd all watched as Hitsugaya had recoiled when Todoroki had gone over to thank him, the anger and defensive fury so evident on his angular features. But then he'd seemed to pause, the anger dissipating into quiet resignation and apology, and confusion had etched itself into the lines defining his knitted brow and slightly-hollow cheeks. For a moment there was silence as Hitsugaya began to eat, the class respectfully allowing him some time to finish his lunch before they started peppering him with names and questions.

The lunch meeting had been Iida's idea, and since Uraraka and Kaminari and most of the rest of the class had quickly jumped on board - even Bakugo had gone along with it again. Midoriya had the sneaking suspicion that Bakugo's presence was mostly Kirishima's responsibility, but he had shown up, and that was all Iida really cared about.

Once Hitsugaya was done with his meal – how in the _hell_ did he put all that food away so quickly? – Iida leaned forward from where he was sitting across the table, glasses glinting.

"Hitsugaya-san, I know you've already met Todoroki-san, Midoriya-kun and I, so the rest of the class is going to go around the table and introduce themselves," the earnest teenager said emphatically. Hitsugaya noticeably stared at him, nonplussed by the strange behavior, but nodded once. Iida forced his lips into a broad smile that seemed unnatural on his face and tapped Tokoyami on his shoulder. The birdlike teenager quickly introduced himself, also relaying his Quirk, and as the rest of the teenagers currently sitting at the table followed suit, Izuku felt Hitsugaya tense again. He looked over to see the white-haired boy sitting rigidly in his seat, gaze focused on each person as they spoke with laserlike intensity, a million thoughts whirring behind those jewel-like eyes. His heart squeezed, remembering what Aizawa-sensei had said about the white-haired teenager with painful clarity.

 _He has seen far, far too much violence for a fifteen-year-old, and he bears scars of those encounters, large scars, both mental and physical._

The warning had been very clear – Hitsugaya had been through hell somehow. And he'd been messed up in the head by whatever he'd been through. Izuku could definitely believe it. Every time someone moved even a little too quickly, Hitsugaya's striking green eyes flickered across the table to them, and there was a slight shiver, like he was suppressing some violent reflex. But he was controlling it well, so hyperaware of his surroundings that it almost seemed the inadvertent twitching was both instinctively triggered and repressed in the same breath.

Izuku glanced down as his turn approached, again noticing the plastic white cuff on Hitsugaya's gold-colored wrist. There were characters on its surface, carefully block-printed to make them easy to read, and Izuku just barely managed to decipher them from the sideways angle before Ojiro finished his introduction. Then he glanced up to meet Hitsugaya's gaze.

"Ah, you know my name already…" he said sheepishly. "But my Quirk is a strength-enhancing type. I can't really demonstrate it or use it seriously though because there's too much rebound."

Hitsugaya didn't speak, but his lips thinned as he pressed them together. Not breaking eye contact, the brilliant cold emerald of his irises sparkling with inhuman light, Hitsugaya very deliberately moved his hand, making it impossible to read the characters. Then the white-haired teenager nodded once and turned his attention on Uraraka, who introduced herself with a cheery grin. After the whole table had gone around, it was Bakugo's turn, and Kirishima nudged the blonde boy carefully.

"Bakugo, you're up," he whispered.

The explosive teenager scowled, red eyes flashing, and positively glared at the newcomer with quivering annoyance and anger etched into his face.

"Fine. Listen here, fuckhead," he snapped, and Hitsugaya blinked and recoiled a bit at the typical Bakugo-style address. "I'm Bakugo Katsuki. My Quirk is-"

"Creating explosions using a nitroglycerin compound, if I'm not mistaken."

Bakugo stopped short at the smooth sound of Hitsugaya's calm voice finishing his statement. The white-haired boy was remarkably blank-faced, still sitting utterly still in the chair as if the slightest movement would send him running or trigger some vicious reaction. The rest of the class looked at Hitsugaya in slight awe. Bakugo looked almost livid, but Hitsugaya didn't even seem fazed.

"Nitroglycerin has a distinctly sweet scent," Hitsugaya continued, and Izuku cocked his head to the side as the boy's medical bracelet came into view again, the golden knuckles whitening on the tabletop as he gripped the edge of the plastic table. The teenager's blank expression turned serious. "You might want to hide that scent if you're planning to use it in combat."

Bakugo stared at the white-haired teenager with incredulity, then nodded imperceptibly, his eyes narrowing to thin slits as his sneer only grew.

"What are you, some kind of shitty wannabe tactician?" Bakugo mocked with a sneering laugh. "I didn't ask for your fucking help, you pathetic shithead. Go whine somewhere else about how much of a sorry piece of shit you are and how having a miserable life and killing one big monster somehow makes you qualified to give decent advice."

The table was dead silent, and then Iida shot out of his seat along with most of the rest of Class 1-A, yelling at Bakugo in paroxysms of rage. The blonde boy started yelling back, a vein popping out in his neck. Izuku ducked his head as Bakugo threw an empty plate, turning to give Hitsugaya an apologetic smile. But then a thin layer of frost covered the table, the temperature of the cafeteria dropping rapidly, and the air suddenly felt like syrup again. Everyone turned to Todoroki at the sudden cold, staring incredulously, but he held up his hands, also shivering.

"It's n-not me," he said, teeth chattering, wheezing just a little bit. Even Bakugo looked confused by the frigid wave that had turned everything in the cafeteria to soundless winter. And then, slowly, Hitsugaya stood up. Something about his white hair, gold-tinted skin, and emerald eyes seemed unbearably cold in that moment, a heartless mix of cruelty and anger yawning in the icy stare. Izuku stood up too, seeing that Hitsugaya's frozen glare was trained on Bakugo, but the simple movement was difficult for some reason, gravity struggling to topple him.

"Hitsugaya-kun," he said nervously, trying to distract the other boy, but Hitsugaya barely acknowledged his voice. The uniform pressed crisply on the new student's shoulders seemed to be glowing faintly, like some strange, ghostly light was shining underneath the fabric. But Bakugo appeared almost completely unfazed, if a little thrown by the sudden cold and the extra pressure on his body. And Izuku could tell that it was making Hitsugaya pissed off.

"Tell me this, Bakugo-san," Hitsugaya's voice was carefully controlled, resulting in a blank, utterly neutral tone that fluctuated just enough to betray the effort it was taking to keep himself icy calm. "Would you be alive if not for my help during the attack on your match with Todoroki-san?"

Bakugo's eyebrows twitched, and he slouched back into his chair, condescension in his red eyes.

"Yeah, I would be alive. You think I need your shit help? You got your fucking leg sliced open."

Hitsugaya's nose twitched, a sneer of his own crossing his attractive face. It wasn't a nice expression and unlike Bakugo's typical scorn, this smirk was malicious and cruel, a sort of pleasure in the twist of his lips.

"That was barely a scratch. I've had much worse," he said dispassionately, and Izuku felt his heart swell with compassion despite how utterly terrifying Hitsugaya's dark fury was. "My point stands. You know nothing about what those creatures are, or how to defeat them. And yet somehow you believe you wouldn't have been eaten alive by that 'monster.' Arrogance."

Bakugo's mouth opened a little bit, confusion passing over his face, and Kirishima stepped in with a nervous look at his explosive friend.

"Uh…eaten alive?" he asked, a little bit of fear in his voice, and Hitsugaya smiled unpleasantly before closing his face off.

"Rather nasty way to die, being bitten in half. " The white-haired boy's voice was quickly becoming detached, almost clinical, and the frigid anger was disappearing behind an emotionless mask. Slowly, the chill and cloying pressure in the air faded away. Izuku stiffened, glancing back down at the medical bracelet that was clasped around Hitsugaya wrist, then looked back up, horror on his face as the realization hit.

"Hitsugaya-kun…you've seen it happen, haven't you?" He couldn't stop the words from shivering as they left his lips, but it seemed to shock the other teen out of his mental retreat. Hitsugaya looked surprised by his commentary, like he hadn't been expecting someone to make that leap in logic. Class 1-A stared, even Bakugo, who was already turning a little bit paler at the thought of watching people being eaten alive. And then Hitsugaya's emerald glare melted into something horribly vulnerable, dropping to the floor.

"…I've let it happen," he murmured after a moment. "Because of my own weakness. Because I wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, because _I_ wasn't enough."

He took a slow, rattling breath.

"Never again," he said, and finally lifted his head to look at the gaping Bakugo again. "I have the knowledge on how to kill those things. And I have the experience to actually do it. So yes. Killing 'one big monster' makes me qualified to give advice. Because I am _never_ going to let any innocent people get hurt because of my weakness again."

Izuku had never, in all his life, seen Bakugo silenced the way he was at that moment, and frankly, he understood why.

Sure. Class 1-A had been attacked by villains during the whole USJ fiasco, but nobody had died. Aizawa had been beaten into unconsciousness, and Thirteen had been shredded by his own powers, and All Might had collapsed from exhaustion, but the students had been somewhat removed from the battle with villains of actual substance. And Aizawa, Thirteen and All Might were still up and walking around, still dealing with students and assigning homework. It had been a terrifying experience, yes. But it hadn't been watching a thirty-foot-tall monster bite a man in half, or fighting for their lives while trying to keep innocent people from being eaten alive. It hadn't been receiving injuries somehow worse than almost having a leg sliced off and still being non-fatal. And the horrors of those experiences were so, so plain on Hitsugaya's face, the conflicting anger and despair and guilt warring on the golden backdrop of his cheeks and forehead.

Without realizing it, Izuku took a half-step forward, inching a little bit closer to his new classmate, and gently put a hand on his shoulder, careful that he made enough movement to let the boy know what was going on. Hitsugaya tensed at the contact, then turned that vivid green stare on him, that horrible guilty rage still smoldering in his eyes. Izuku swallowed hard, a bit nervous, but he steeled himself as best as he could.

"…I know you think that it's just duty that forces some people to help others – I was listening when you were talking to Todoroki-kun," he started a little anxiously, trying not to stutter under the intensity of that gaze. "But…but you still had a choice, didn't you? You could have been selfish and run away…but you didn't."

Hitsugaya blinked once, his hands curling into fists at his side, and shook his head.

"Stop it," he commanded, his voice trembling. "There was no choice. Not for me."

Izuku nodded shakily and smiled, finally finding a way to get to the point he was trying to make.

"That's because you're a good person," he said earnestly. "Because even…even if you weren't enough, not yet, then you were at least _something_. You at least could do _something_."

There was a short silence while the white-haired teenager thought that over, and then something nameless glinted on his face and he turned away with a bitter laugh. Izuku could feel him shaking even with just the small touch on the other teen's shoulder, and as the label on the bracelet drifted across his mind again, he gathered a second spike of courage.

"Hitsugaya-kun…I don't think you can blame yourself for trying – or failing – to save people when the pros weren't around," he said quietly, and watched as the bitter smile on Hitsugaya's golden face spread into a strange sort of cynical grimace, like he was biting back an even greater sense of guilt. His shoulders rounded, the perfect posture he'd so effortlessly displayed suddenly crumbling. His hands came up to cover his face, and he stayed hunched over for a moment. But then he straightened back up, the cold, mildly polite composure settling over his comely features, and quirked the corner of his mouth up in what was almost – though perfunctory – a smile at Izuku.

"…Thank you, Midoriya-san," he replied graciously, and as Izuku felt his lips curl helplessly upward in response, the coldness of Hitsugaya's neutral face melted into a more pleasant coolness, a hint of nostalgia present there. His body language unwound fractionally, eyebrows drawing up his forehead just a hair. But even that little bit was enough to hint at the boy beneath the cold scowl and piercing glare, and Izuku couldn't help but turn a little bit pink as he realized that _he_ had inadvertently caused that reaction.

"You smile a lot," Hitsugaya noticed, the quirking of his lips hinting that with another little push the current twitch could break into a full, if small, smile. Izuku turned from slightly pink to full-on red, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Uh-uh…S-sorry, it's a little bit…uh, a little bit of a reflex?" He tried not to cringe at the way his voice squeaked on the final note, but luckily Hitsugaya just waited patiently for him to finish, still just a tad softer around the edges. The white-haired boy's cold glare became a bit faraway.

"Don't apologize," he rebuked gently, gaze dropping "You…you just remind me of someone I once knew."

Izuku cocked his head to the side, blinking owlishly, and without really thinking the situation over, he opened his mouth.

"…What you mean you 'once knew' someone?" he asked, puzzled. Hitsugaya's softness became tinged with melancholy.

"The person she once was died." His voice was quiet, cracked with sorrow. "The girl she became afterward couldn't smile like that ever again. And least of all could she smile like that at me. I…I'm still questioning why."

Izuku went a terrifying shade of grey, suddenly feeling horrible that he'd triggered such a bad memory, but Hitsugaya chose exactly moment to speak again.

"Don't lose your ability to smile, Midoriya-san," he requested plainly, the slight tremor in his voice betraying the importance of this wish, and Izuku stiffened in surprise. Then he smiled again, as widely as he could.

"I won't!" he promised, completely certain of his choice. He wanted to be a hero that smiled, one that would inspire reassurance and hope in people suffering because of natural disasters or villains. So if he lost that ability, he'd lose that dream. And after everything All Might had given him, he couldn't afford that.

But when he saw the twitching of Hitsugaya's lips twist up and settle, the faint smile finally present on that golden face, somehow it felt like that dream was a lot closer than he thought.

* * *

 **Welp, please review! Again - if there are any reviews I find to be outstanding, I may reward them with spoilers. Or I might just debunk all the theories. Some of you lovelies are getting quite...creative. And more than a little off-track. ;) Keep on guessing!**


	7. Build Up, Break Down

**A/N: So you may notice something here - I've messed with the timeline a bit. Just spreading things out to be a little less clustered - there's not going to be a real consequence of the rearranging.**

 **Thank you all for the incredible response to last chapter. You have no idea how happy seeing the email notification makes me. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

It wasn't fair.

Or, at least, that's what Iida said. Several times. Each more upset than the last, a strange dark despondence invading his entire personality. Izuku would have almost been amused if he didn't know that anything Iida did had to be in complete earnest. But, to be honest, it was rather refreshing to have a new competitor for the top student slot in nearly every class. Even Yaoyorozu acknowledged that she was oddly happy with the new competition. And for his part, Hitsugaya didn't flaunt it. He was perfectly happy to receive his flawless grades in math, chemistry, biology, and English – _perfect grades in English, how in the hell did he do that, whoever invented that language lacked all common sense –_ without making a big deal out of it.

And then, a week after Hitsugaya had joined the class, everyone got back the essay that Cementoss had assigned them in Japanese Literature. There were a few explosions of tears from Ashido and Kaminari, as had become rather standard, as well as a rare sigh of disappointment from Yaoyorozu – you only lost _two points_ , Yaomomo-chan, _come on_ – but as soon as the bell for lunch rang, they all stayed back to compare essay scores, even Kaminari, who had somehow scored a _30_.

"Midoriya-kun, what was your score?" Iida's voice was light, though it felt a little strained, and Izuku felt a pang of sympathy when he remembered the horrible phone call Iida had received two days after the U.A. Sports Festival. Izuku held up his paper with a sheepish grin.

"I got a 95." He showed the other boy his paper, a bit flushed. "I forgot to put in three quotes and lost five points."

Iida's glasses glimmered with earnest understanding, pointing his hands about like a robot.

"Ah, that's a terribly silly mistake for a quality paper, Midoriya-kun," he commiserated. "I must say I did better – I received a perfect score on my essay."

Izuku felt his heart jump a bit at the actual satisfaction on his friend's face, happy that the good grade had put at least a little bit of joy back into his friend's heart. And then he saw Hitsugaya standing off to the side, flipping through the paper he'd written with quick, frustrated motions. His white shoe was tapping against the floor, a tiny tic Izuku had noticed that tended to appear when he was getting annoyed. Careful not to draw attention to himself or the obviously-irritated Hitsugaya, he slipped away from the others.

"Ah, H-Hitsugaya-kun, is everything okay?" he asked, trying to keep his voice down. Hitsugaya glanced up with a jerk, startled to the point of actually flinching back, and Izuku had to swallow a gasp of pity. Hitsugaya didn't seem like the type who would appreciate pity. The quiet teenager regarded him for a minute, then let out a huge breath, his cheeks puffing out and his eyebrows knitting together to create a kittenish annoyance that almost made Izuku laugh. Then he grudgingly handed Izuku the paper he'd written.

There were red marks. A lot of them. And when Izuku flipped the pages back to look at the front, a large red 73 was staring back at him. He blinked in absolute shock, not expecting the near-genius to do so comparatively poor on any assignment. Then he shifted his gaze up to meet the white-haired boy's piercing, slightly terrifying glare only to see that Hitsugaya's perfect posture had slouched a bit and he'd looked away. A faint rosy tinge stained the mysterious teenager's cheeks.

 _He's embarrassed._ _Oh. Oh goodness, how do I handle this?_

"Um…" he took a moment to analyze the argument that Hitsugaya had written, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Um, w-well, your paper isn't actually too bad – you just didn't explain yourself well enough."

Hitsugaya frowned then, the rosy tinge still flushing his cheeks, but he straightened up and met Izuku's gaze.

"How so?" he asked, a bit warily. Izuku tapped the beginning of the third paragraph, which Cementoss-sensei had circled widely.

"Uh…like here, look. I don't know how you managed to connect the woman's death to the garden – I mean, I made the connection in my essay too, so I know _how_ – but you just equate them. There's no 'why the author chose to' or how this is logically a conclusion to draw." Hitsugaya read over the paragraph he'd written. Then his frown crimped a little bit, his brows furrowing in confusion. Izuku tried not to stare. Hitsugaya was blushing. And confused. And leaning over his shoulder, the mop of snow-white hair soft and fluffy. Why did this guy look _so much_ like a squishy marshmallow when he was the most reserved, cold person Izuku had ever met?

"…But it's so obvious," Hitsugaya said, exasperated, and suddenly Izuku knew where the problem was.

"To you, yes," Izuku agreed, the gears in his brain already starting to turn. "You're highly intelligent, so much so that logical connections like this one mean these two symbols don't even register as separate topics to you. But that means that you operate on a psychological expectation that the rest of the world can see these same kinds of connections and therefore you don't have the subconscious need to explain this sort of link."

For a second Hitsugaya was quiet, blinking owlishly. Then his lips quirked again and Izuku almost got the feeling that the reserved teenager was admiring his theory. There was a knowing sort of glint in those gemlike eyes, the twitch of the muscles in his jaw betraying what could have been a smile but refused to show. And for the first time, his body language appeared to relax a bit, a kind of hesitant tolerance of the classroom environment apparently beginning to form.

"Thank you, Midoriya-san. That was helpful," he said after a moment, the confusion and flush of embarrassment melting from his facial features. Izuku went a bit pink himself, suddenly feeling like Hitsugaya had been the one to teach _him_ something and not the other way around.

"A-ah, don't…uhm, don't mention it," he squeaked, and Hitsugaya just gave him that same patient, slightly approving look, then took his essay back and put it in his messenger bag. The white-haired teen then quietly slipped out the door by himself.

Uraraka and Iida bounced up behind Izuku, watching as Hitsugaya ghosted away, the long, sheathed sword on his back still riding comfortably between his shoulder blades. Once they were sure Hitsugaya was out of earshot, Uraraka spoke up.

"He actually likes you, Deku-kun," she commented curiously, and Izuku reeled back in shock at the offhand observation, flailing wildly.

"Ah-ah, Uraraka-san, that's not-"

"Uraraka-chan is right, Midoriya-kun," Iida interjected a little bit tiredly. "I have not seen Hitsugaya-kun yet tolerate much interaction with any of the members of Class 1-A besides you. He…he rather avoids being in our presence, I think."

Izuku looked at the ground for a moment, remembering the label on the plastic medical bracelet on Hitsugaya's wrist. He bit his lower lip, worrying it with his teeth anxiously as he fidgeted, debating on whether or not to tell Iida and Uraraka about the diagnosis he'd seen. But then he sighed and decided against it. Hitsugaya would tell everyone when he was ready – it wasn't fair for him to reveal that secret just because he'd been nosy.

"I…I think it's probably because I remind him of that person he knew," Izuku said after a moment, carefully choosing his words. "He doesn't really seem like the type of person to trust easily, so that's probably why he tolerates me a little better."

It took a moment, but then Uraraka and Iida nodded in agreement, seeing the logic in Izuku's quiet theory. Then, as the rest of the crowd of grade-comparing students began to meander toward the exit, the trio followed. The lunch hour was brief, the conversations between the three friends making it seem much shorter than it was, and then they all headed back to the classroom only to find that Midnight and Aizawa-sensei were both in the room, holding stacks of paper. Hitsugaya arrived just as the bell was ringing, sliding into the back of the room like a shadow and taking his seat before the sound died off.

Then the pair of teachers pointed out the packets of paper on some students' desks, and Midnight grinned foxily.

"Alright kids! For those of you unaware, you are all going to be doing internships with Pro-heroes for a week, starting two days from now, and you'll be doing that instead of your regular schooling. You'll be allowed to wear your hero costumes for this internship, and today in class we'll be coming up with your code names. Those of you with the packets of paper on your desks, you were extended offers from certain hero agencies based on how well you performed in the U.A. Sports Festival a few weeks ago. Those of you with only one sheet of paper, that is the list of agencies we've partnered with that will accept any of our students. And remember to _learn_ while you're there. Final exams take place a month after you all return."

Almost immediately, the entire class burst into chatter and titters of excitement. Midnight cracked her whip, causing everyone to instantly fall silent.

"I will be judging your hero names. You could be stuck with these for the rest of your careers, so make sure they're good!" she snapped. Aizawa, bored, zipped up his sleeping bag and rolled into a corner, and then the students got to work. And then, hesitantly, Hitsugaya raised his hand.

"…Is there a specific reason I was not issued a list of the agencies?" he asked, eyes already narrowed in thought. Midnight nodded with a sigh, her expression faintly apologetic.

"Yes – Principal Nedzu decided it would be best for you to use this week as time to catch up on your studies. You will not be participating in the internship. You may use this time to make a preliminary sketch of your hero costume, however, if you are any closer to remembering your Quirk's particulars," she said. Hitsugaya merely nodded and ducked his head a bit, pulling out his notebook. Absently, he started to write, his hand moving quick and fast over the paper. Izuku glanced back at the other boy with some dismay, but said nothing, knowing that Midnight was right – especially if Hitsugaya's memory loss involved his Quirk at all. Meanwhile, he looked down at the page in his hands, where only one name was present.

 _Gran Torino._

* * *

Honestly, he was glad that he was being excluded from the internships.

Hitsugaya ignored all the fuss over hero codenames, filling in more of his hairline theories on the Quirk that had brought him to this dimension. He was starting to get frustrated with his lack of discernable progress, though he had found at least a few leads through some less-than-legal internet forums. Most promising among them was a villain called Kurogiri, who had the rare ability to create warp gates. With the right trigger, maybe he could also open the Senkaimon.

After class was dismissed for the day, Hitsugaya jogged down to the school's huge library and checked in with the librarian. He spent the next four hours sorting books and thinking, the work-study program job monotonous enough to allow his brain to churn along at the usual breakneck speed. It was rather pleasant, he was slowly coming to realize, this existence. There was the expectation that all the students would graduate and fight crime for a living, and so while they were still sheltered, they weren't being handled with kiddie gloves. Even he was being given a little bit of space, monitored from afar as he settled into Class 1-A, his PTSD misdiagnosis not a constant bitter thorn in his side.

But the fact remained that his presence was causing the dormant reishi particles of this world to cling to him like a gigai, to quicken and hum with just enough energy for Hollows to rip through. He was lucky that a second one hadn't appeared since the first Adjuchas, but it was only a matter of time before the tear grew in size. And the only way to permanently stop them was to go home.

Which was proving impossible.

It was true that as a student of the U.A. he was privy to a great deal of information he otherwise would not have been able to access. However, it wasn't enough. And it was only slightly helpful.

After his shift in the library ended, he ran effortlessly back to his dorm room and threw off his uniform. Hyourinmaru hummed quietly in the back of his mind, staying silent as he stepped into the shower and stood under the cool water for a few long minutes. Both dragon Zanpakutou spirit and his shinigami master were restless, disturbed by the lack of information, and dismayed by the dwindling chance of their return to Soul Society. Toushiro sighed, his breath freezing a few of the water droplets on contact, and grudgingly started to wash his hair. By the time he stepped out of the shower and into a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants All Might had given him, it was late, and the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. He breezed through the homework easily, barely glancing at any of the jejune assignments.

And then he felt it. The sharp, unsettling coldness of a needle pricking over his neck, a draft cool air rushing in from the window over his exposed skin, and the room slowly vanished into white, white, white- he couldn't move-

 _So stubborn, Hitsugaya-taicho. Relax, and this will all be over before you know it._

Kurotsuchi's voice was patient and patronizing, and the needle tickling his carotid artery burned as it sank through his skin, charring him from the inside out, and he was _screaming_ , and everything was on fire but he _couldn't move- couldn't move- tied down-_ Where was Matsumoto? _Zombified_ by Giselle, Giselle with dark hair and a cruel laugh and the dead eyes of Madarame and Ayasagewa as his body cut them down and _he couldn't do anything_. Breathe, one, two, but there was something in his mouth – _blood, Giselle, forcing it down his throat as he's clinging to life_ – and everything was on fire, his blood boiling, _make it stop, Kurotsuchi_ -

A door opened with a thud – _Kurotsuchi Nemu, syringes in hand_ – he was coughing blood and white lab walls were fading into darkness, there was another needle in his neck- the walls were light green, why- softness in a coffin that forces air into his aching lungs- carpet beneath his hands, see, he can move- everything was burning again, make it stop- cold air against his hand, warmth beneath his cheek, a heartbeat loud and strong, a hand in his hair.

"You're safe, Hitsugaya-kun. Nobody here is going to hurt you."

Aizawa.

Kurotsuchi's lab disappeared. The needles stopped coming, the burn of chemicals and blood searing his veins with unnatural fire vanishing. He was on the floor, crumpled into a ball, his hands locked over the back of his neck as if he was trying to hide, to curl inwards on himself until he dissolved into nothing. Aizawa was sitting with him, cradling him gently against a strong chest, one hand running gently through his white hair. Hitsugaya jerked away, or tried to, but the dark-haired teacher appeared to have anticipated the move and he didn't let go as easily as Hitsugaya had expected. The young shinigami froze, so startled by the resistance that he actually had to pause and take a breath.

 _It happened again_.

The thought was gut-wrenching and terrifying all in one, and he'd been desperately trying to avoid letting it cross his mind. But while he was held like this, acutely aware of how disconnected from the world he'd become, it was impossible to ignore. He'd let a human – _a living human_ – sneak up on him, touch him, hug him, all without even realizing what was happening. He'd become so lost in the horror of his memories that he'd ceased to comprehend what was going on in the present. Slowly, he took a shuddering breath, trying to hold off the dawning realization. If he'd been in Seireitei when this happened, fighting a Hollow, commanding troops, even conducting a training exercise, this episode could have been the cause of someone's death. Hyourinmaru stirred in the back of his mind, the icy coils of the dragon's silver-blue body shifting as the powerful, wise creature reared his head.

 _"_ _Running from your fears only causes them to grow deeper roots, little one."_ The dragon's voice was soft like a fine drizzle of rain, knowing that his master and partner's crumbling ability to deny his reality was painful enough without a massive ice dragon saying, 'I told you so'. _"And this particular weed has had twenty years to grow and take root in your soul."_

"I'm not…" his voice cracked, splitting into an embarrassingly pitchy high note, and Aizawa let out a sigh of both resignation and no little concern.

"You don't have to pretend that you're okay, kid," he said gruffly, a sort of dreary wisdom in his eyes. "I've seen a lot of heroes twice your age functioning only half as well with severe PTSD."

Hitsugaya felt fire surge through his mind, uncontrollable anger melting his icy reserve into faint glassy shards, and he lashed out in the only way he knew how, shoving at Aizawa violently. But the man had expected that as well, and suddenly Hitsugaya found a couple of stiff bands of metal woven into bandages snap snugly about his wrists, pinning him. The sudden restraints were too much, and as Hitsugaya started kicking and thrashing about, the metallic bandages caught his ankles and shoulders too, binding him tightly.

"I _don't have_ any sort of mental disability, you pathetic, weak-minded scrap of-"

"PTSD isn't a mental disability, Hitsugaya-kun." Aizawa's voice was still completely calm. Unbelievable. It was infuriating, and as that dark, tired gaze found his again Toushiro found himself entirely losing his cool, howling mad for absolutely no reason. He kept struggling, finding it increasingly difficult to refrain from displaying his shinigami strength and tearing through the thin metal like paper. And Aizawa – the _bastard_ – just kept him close, ignoring the way his pinned hands were repeatedly beating against the broad chest holding him prisoner. And the teacher's calm, patient expression never changed, never once turning upset or annoyed no matter how Toushiro yelled or struggled, all of the hurtful, cold things rolling from the young captain's tongue ignored so easily that it seemed he wasn't even hearing them.

But after thirty minutes of fruitless yelling and screaming, Hitsugaya went still, his chest heaving, his throat sore from the constant string of nasty expletives. And Aizawa still sat there, his expression calm, his scraggly dark hair pulled back in a messy low ponytail. Hitsugaya closed his eyes, swallowing the numb ache in his chest with a lot of difficulty. He could still hear Aizawa's heartbeat beneath his ear, the sound strangely grounding.

"…a lot of trauma patients get angry very easily." Aizawa's voice was neutral, almost conversational, and that strange aimlessness made Toushiro pause, still choking back the rising tide of boiling emotion in his chest. The teacher then glanced down, and Toushiro sucked in a shaky breath. There was no pity in those dark eyes, only sorrow and understanding.

"They want other people to be mad at them," Aizawa said, the gruffness of his tone gentling just a little bit. "They feel so terribly guilty that they want the entire world to hate them so that they feel like they're getting what they deserve."

It was like he'd been kicked in the chest, and he stared up at the human man who had somehow cut right to his core in one single sentence. He couldn't breathe. It took a minute for him to muster up the strength to speak, but when he did his words were faint, incredulous.

"…It _was_ my fault," he whispered, and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him, that same look of sorrow and understanding in the grim, stubbly lines around his mouth.

"Did you, _willingly_ , choose to cause or participate in whatever event you're feeling guilty for? Did you have any control over the situation at all?" he asked gently, and Hitsugaya, after a moment's thought, shook his head with a hint of desperation. He could feel the swell of emotion starting to break, starting to surge through his defenses, and he needed control back before everything came crashing down around his head like ice dominos.

"That's not what-"

"You can't blame yourself for things you can't control, Hitsugaya-kun," Aizawa scolded lightly, and then he pulled the metal bandages off Hitsugaya's ankles, wrists, and shoulders in order to push the teenager back. He put his hands on Toushiro's shoulders, looking at him sternly.

"It's not your fault, kiddo," he told the young shinigami firmly. "It's _not_ your fault."

First it was one droplet. Then two, a pair leaking over the top wall of the dam stretched to the breaking point. And then with a third, enough stony resolve had eroded away that the dam cracked and burst in a spectacular shower of saltwater. And Toushiro buckled, burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking violently as he struggled vainly to keep his eyes dry. Aizawa reached out and carefully took him, pulling him into a second hug. Toushiro hung there limply, his face hiding in his teacher's shoulder, hiccupping erratically as the tears kept coming. And then Aizawa smiled a little bit, ruffling his student's pure snow-colored hair.

"If you need to cry now, I will not see anything," he murmured softly. And true to his word, he saw nothing as Toushiro finally began to sob.

It didn't take nearly as long for Hitsugaya to cry through his grief as it had taken him to rage through his anger, but it was twice as draining. By the time his emotions had run dry, the anger and grief and confusion and raw, stupefying guilt had quietly faded into a blank sort of numbness. He felt empty, completely lost, and for once he let himself think about what had happened. He avoided the memory of the pitched battles with the Quincy, or the time he spent in Kurotsuchi's hands, but he did let himself think about what he had done after the war.

He'd done a lot of motivational, positive things for the destroyed Seireitei. The Tenth Division had been the first division to once again be fully operational, and he'd volunteered a lot of his own time to help rebuild the Sixth, Fifth, and Thirteenth Divisions. He'd fronted the effort to reconstruct Central 46, carefully laying the framework which would allow scribes and learned men from the Rukongai to be elected into the ranks of a subcommittee designed to help balance the heavy-handed noble influence in the government. He'd made the Tenth Division the most efficient in Seireitei, taking on hundreds of patrols a month and successfully completing all of them. He'd even begun offering personal training sessions with his seated officers and the unseated shinigami that his higher ranks recommended for development. It had eaten into his free time and caused him to lose several hours of sleep a week, but it had boosted the morale in his division to an all-time high.

And he'd never given himself the time to think about the horrors he'd experienced. He'd never allowed himself the few moments he needed to look in the mirror and face the ghosts of the Eleventh Division haunting him. He'd exhausted himself day after day to avoid seeing Giselle's eerie face in his dreams, and to keep him moving, keep his defenses perfect so that war would never happen again.

But here, in this new world, where he couldn't do useful things forever and people would question it if he only let himself sleep five hours a night, he didn't have those distractions. There weren't any excuses for jumping a mile when people snuck up on him, or easy, paperwork-related explanations for the aimless fury that sometimes consumed him whole. He couldn't lash out at people here and brush it off as a captain's prerogative. And the cause of it all was finally starting to sink in.

 _"_ _You have to admit it to yourself before you can start to fight it, little one,"_ Hyourinmaru said gently, his presence quiet. Hitsugaya took a deep breath, still shaky, and pulled carefully out of Aizawa's hold. The dark-haired teacher let him, still watching him cautiously. Absently, Toushiro realized that the light on his medical cuff, which had been blinking red, had now shut off. Odd.

"…thank you, Aizawa-sensei," he whispered hoarsely, acutely aware of the redness of his eyes. Shame boiled in his cheeks, and he ducked his head. "I apologize for-"

"No."

A calloused hand cupped his chin, forcing his head up so that he was staring directly into Aizawa's stern glare.

"You will not apologize for this," he repeated stiffly. "PTSD is not something you apologize for. It is not something you feel shame for. It means you went through an awful, terrifying event and were strong enough to survive it."

 _"_ _You are not weak, Master. I would not give my loyalty to a weakling. Own this and destroy it head-on."_

Toushiro felt some thin pane of glassy pride crack in his heart, and with a tremendous amount of effort, he finally overcame the furious despair just long enough to speak.

"…I really have it, don't I?" he whispered, knuckles going white on his knees. Aizawa let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Yeah, kid, you do," he said, a little gruff but still obviously concerned. "The psychiatrist that diagnosed you was positive once you started having flashbacks and losing touch with reality, but he also did point out that a lot of the anger you seem to feel is probably a symptom of your PTSD, along with the difficulty you seem to experience while controlling your anger or other strong emotions. Feeling extreme guilt especially is a part of it as well."

A hollow laugh left Hitsugaya's mouth. Not his fault? Shouldn't apologize? Suffering from PTSD was one of the many things that captains shouldn't do. That Captains _couldn't_ do, because the thirteen captains of the Gotei 13 were pillars of unyielding strength that would never give up Seireitei until they were taking their last breath. But he didn't say anything to Aizawa about his position. The dark-haired teacher didn't need to know about Seireitei, or shinigami, or the Gotei 13. Because here, in this world, he could take the time to fight his way through the flashbacks on his own, while he was searching for the one person who could cross dimensions and take him home. He didn't have any distractions here. And that meant he would be forced to face the terror he'd been running from.

He took another deep breath and glanced down at the medical band on his wrist, glaring at the characters there with narrowed emerald eyes. _Ailment: Severe PTSD._

"Not for long, it's not," he growled under his breath. And then as he followed his student's gaze, Aizawa smiled a real smile, a hint of pride flickering across his face. Then the pro-hero paused and took a slow breath, that smile growing wider.

It had been the first time Hitsugaya had called him 'Aizawa-sensei.'

* * *

 **What do you think? Leave a review and tell me! (Also, I reserve the right to give spoilers to my favorite reviews)**


	8. Witness

**A/N: Hello again! Thank you all for the response to last chapter, and I'm glad many of you seem to like what's happening. But here's where stuff starts to get interesting...**

* * *

The week of the internships was incredible. Except for initial first day, where Gran Torino had acted like a senile old man just to drive the message through Izuku's head – _you are not All Might –_ Izuku was learning a lot. He'd already developed Full Cowl, and though the technique packed a bit of punch, it would need practice for him to eventually achieve that 100% power level that All Might seemed to output effortlessly. Gran Torino had been extremely helpful, even going as far as to feed him lots of Taiyaki and bring him over to a friend's agency to search for crime themselves.

But as they were on the train, passing through Hosu, disaster struck. A villain shot through the metal wall of the train car with such intensity that the train caved in, and Gran Torino had to spring into action. He'd been warned to stay in the train, of course, but when the realization that Nomus were attack finally hit, the only person Izuku could think of was Iida. Earnest, straight-laced Iida, whose elder brother had nearly been killed in Hosu by the deranged Hero Killer, Stain.

And suddenly everything made a lot of sense, and he'd leapt from the train car, sprinting for the heart of the chaos.

The center of the Hosu district was in flames, the screams of the beastlike Nomus echoing violently in the air, and as he'd watched he saw a pillar of fire erupt from some point the distance. Endeavor, the Flame Hero. There was no way the Hero Killer would be there, as there would undoubtedly be too much going on for the serial killer to drag his victims off. Iida wouldn't have gone there.

And so Izuku hadn't either, running at full tilt past alleyways until he'd seen a long, jagged blade poised at Iida's throat, and before he'd even known what he was doing he'd leapt, green lightning flickering around his body, Full Cowl searing his muscles with energy. He'd been nicked with the blade, and then Todoroki had showed up, responding to his distress call on his phone just in time to prevent Iida's death again. And they'd fought. They'd fought like hell, pushing through pain and terror alike until the Hero Killer was unconscious, sprawled on the ice spreading up the side of the buildings. And then Endeavour and Gran Torino were there, with several other heroes and sidekicks, and Native was carrying him piggyback-style because his calf had been slashed and he could barely put any weight at all on it after that last jump. And the Hero Killer had been caught, arrested, and that was that.

But as they were walking toward the hospital, they turned a corner and saw the sprawled form of a winged Nomu in the street, its eyes frozen open in death. Both of its wings had been severed from its dark body, the brain protruding from its head split apart, the neck slashed through. Dark blood covered the street, pooling on the tarmac and trickling toward a nearby storm grate. Izuku felt his stomach lurch wildly, and as both of his hands shot to his mouth in an effort to prevent himself from throwing up he heard Iida start puking behind him. Endeavor took a few steps forward, kneeling in a dry spot beside the dead, humanoid creature with narrow blue eyes, and then stood back up and looked around.

"This blood is fresh. Whoever killed this villain is close by," he growled. "On your guard. I don't think we're meant any harm, but these are expert wounds."

One of the sidekicks stiffened in no slight alarm as Native and the two heroes helping Iida and Todoroki – the younger Todoroki – slid into place in the center of the ring.

"Endeavor-san, what exactly do you mean by that?" he asked. The Flame Hero grunted.

"Look closely. The wings were both cut off – to prevent escape. And then the next two blows are both meant for a quick, nearly-painless kill. One across the throat, to kill the body, and the other through the brain so the creature wouldn't watch its own blood pool in the street," he grunted, glancing around at the nearby alleyways with a wary glance as the group moved through the street away from the Nomu's grotesque carcass. "And all of this was done without visible signs of struggle from the creature, a creature which we had a great deal of trouble with. So as I said – expert technique."

Izuku stared back at the limp body of the thing in the road, Endeavor's analysis nearly flawless in his ears. It was almost too perfect, the execution of the once-human monstrosity, and while the sight made him sick, he was slowly starting to understand that whomever had killed the Nomu, they'd tried to make it quick. Whoever they were, they weren't like the Hero Killer, Stain, because for all his preaching, he'd still left Iida's brother to suffer and bleed out. This unknown vigilante hadn't been so cruel.

And then, for some reason, he looked up. Perhaps it was the whisper of unseasonably cold wind on the back of his neck, or the slight pressure on his temples that triggered the move, but either way, for some reason he looked. And the moonlight caught against a gleaming arc of silvery metal, illuminating snow-like strands of icy hair with silver light. Sitting on top of the office building just next to the fallen Nomu was a wan-looking teenager with an unsheathed katana of unusual length in his pale-gold hand, a grieving expression on his shadowed face. A black butterfly was sitting on his fingertip, an odd kind of blue glow surrounding it and the dash of magenta on its wing, and he was speaking softly to it.

Hitsugaya.

Izuku watched him breathlessly as he was carried away, heart dropping into his stomach as the pieces clicked together in his hand. Hitsugaya, with his strange, almost-speed Quirk and long blade, would have been the perfect person to take down the Nomu. The birdlike man wouldn't have even seen him coming. It would probably have been dead before it hit the ground.

And then it hit him.

 _Hitsugaya had killed something human._

Iida followed his gaze, looking up at the rooftop with some confusion, and then turned back to Izuku with a frown of concern.

"Midoriya-kun, what are you looking at?" he inquired politely, his voice still subdued from the aftermath of realizing his actions. Izuku blinked, realizing that he'd drifted out focus in the few seconds since he'd seen his mysterious classmate silhouetted against the moon like the angel of death. And then Hitsugaya was gone. As simple as that, quick and easy as a single blink, and he had disappeared.

"…I saw Hitsugaya-kun," he breathed, and without even looking he knew Iida had stiffened, also understanding that the teenager's peculiar Quirk would have been the perfect method for killing the Nomu in the exact way that Endeavor had described. The only question was now something chilling – a possibility that Izuku didn't even want to consider creeping into the corners of his mind.

 _How did Hitsugaya – who wasn't on an internship – know to come out to Hosu?_

* * *

It had been three days since Aizawa had come into his room and forced him to admit to his psychological condition. And then the game changed.

He'd known the second the itch had stopped. He'd been preoccupied with smearing liberal amounts of moisturizing lotion on his hands, the scaly strangeness that sometimes happened apparently causing his skin to dry out three times faster than he was used to. And once he'd used the lotion, massaging it into his skin in small circles, he'd lifted his head from the computer screen where he was talking with several people in various, questionable forums on the internet. And he'd felt it, the unmistakable crawling reiatsu of a twisted, tormented human soul prickling at his skin instead of the uncomfortable sensation of silver-blue scales prickling under his muscle

Toushiro hadn't thought after that. He'd seized Hyourinmaru and leapt from his dorm window, landing lightly on the air and springing forward with careless grace. He'd fallen farther than he'd meant to, the reishi in the atmosphere sluggish and sleepy compared with the reishi present in his home dimension. He'd had to compensate for its dormant state, pulling it forward just a bit before he landed to break his fall, but he made good time nonetheless, crossing the Tokyo skyline like a flittering ghost in his black t-shirt, dark jeans, and grey high-top sneakers, the ones with the worn star on the side. Hyourinmaru's blade, the sheath dissolved, was in his hand, the dragon's voice purring in his mind. All he could think about were those three souls, tortured and pained, trapped in living bodies, of all things.

Pity welled up in his heart, pity mixed with burning, blistering anger as he beheld the flame and smoke from the place where heroes were currently leaping on and subduing two of the creatures he'd sensed. He could see what had happened now, the cruel experimentation that these humans had undergone. It had been horrific, the extent of this meddling, and he knew this because he could sense the stifled humanity within these mindless beasts, the twisted souls caught in a web of genetic manipulation and torture until the human spirit was stretched to the breaking point.

But two had already been captured by humans. Those two it would be too dangerous to kill, to release from their torment with Hyourinmaru's purifying edge. He would go for the third instead. He sent a quick prayer to whatever force governed the balance of human souls after the Soul King's death as he sped away from the two creatures, praying for a quick release from their unrepairable states.

And then he found the third beast. It was flying, screeching madly as it wheeled in the sky, and he closed his eyes. Hyourinmaru's blade flashed red thrice. And then the creature lay dying in the street, the ghost of the man it had once been taking shape some distance from the slain carcass. Hitsugaya gently picked up the spirit in his arms and Shunpoed to the top of the building right next door, drawing away from the edge as the very-human reiatsu of heroes approached. The spirit stared at him with wide, terrified eyes, looking at the blade in his hand in shock. Then the ghost had turned back to the body lying in the street.

"I was inside that," he'd said weakly. Toushiro had gazed at him sadly, compassion etched into every line of his face.

"Yes," he'd said gently, years of experience dealing with the newly-deceased softening his scowl into a grieving smile, his glare into a glance of soft pity. The spirit had fixated on him, turning away from the carcass in the street one last time, a sort of recognition flickering across his features. The spirit had once been a handsome man, Hitsugaya had realized sadly. He'd looked like the sort to have a happy young wife and a kid or two.

"You…killed me. When I was that thing."

There was nothing Hitsugaya could've said to refute the statement, so he didn't. Instead, he'd just bowed his head in silence for a moment, then gave the man that same sad smile.

"I'm sorry, human," he'd said gently, the blade in his hand gleaming in the moonlight. "I did what I had to do to free your soul. I could not in good conscience let you suffer such torment."

The man had stood up on shaky legs, the chain dangling from his chest clinking softly. He'd looked strangely accepting now, Hitsugaya's words and actions enough to assure him of the truth of the boy's otherworldly claim.

"You're Death, aren't you?" the spirit had asked softly. Hitsugaya had dipped his head once, then laughed a little bit.

"In some regard, I suppose you could say that," he'd replied easily. "I traveled the same path you now walk centuries ago."

That had made the spirit look a tad more interested, and his brown eyes had blinked in surprise.

"You're human?" he'd asked, eyebrows rising. Hitsugaya had smiled, the expression slightly less melancholy.

"Over two-hundred years ago, yes. Not so much now," he'd said with a slight smile. "The afterlife isn't a bad place. Rather like the Living World, only there isn't as much hunger, and people live longer."

The brown-eyed ghost had smiled and took a step towards Hitsugaya, looking peaceful. Then he'd sighed.

"You should know – I was once human too," he'd said quietly, looking vaguely horrified. Hitsugaya had lightly tapped him on the forehead with the hilt of his Zanpakutou, the blue seal of Konso appearing there. Slowly, the man had sunk into the pool of light on the ground, and then the butterfly, black and magenta, fluttered out and landed on his fingertip.

"I know," he'd whispered to the tiny insect. "And I will exact just punishment on those who meddle with human lives. Be at peace knowing that I will end this for you."

The tiny antennae twitched vaguely, and then the butterfly took off, winging its way into the ether. And Hitsugaya had Shunpoed away, rematerializing his sheath on Hyourinmaru's blade as he'd headed back to his dorm, sliding in through the open window less than a full thirty minutes after he'd left.

And then, only once he was back in his room and the full importance of what had just happened was staring him in the face, did he allow himself to get angry, hissing winter fury materializing in the air around him. He seized his Soul Phone, trying for the thousandth time to get a proper signal, then threw it across the room when it didn't work. Furious still, he ripped his notebook from his desk drawer and tore off the cap off an unsuspecting pen with his teeth, writing feverishly about the spiritual mutilation that he'd just witnessed.

It took nearly a full hour for him to calm somewhat, anger fading into distress and the weight of unlooked-for responsibility. He was a Captain of the Gotei 13 – a captain broken by trauma, perhaps, but a captain nonetheless – and this sort of abject horror was his responsibility to stop. He now had an objective beyond finding a way to return home, a serious objective that only a true shinigami would be able to carry out, because not every footsoldier could tolerate what was required.

He had to find the human responsible for meddling with the soul this way…and execute them. There would be no prisoners taken, no surrender acceptable. Even if this person came crawling forward on their hands and knees, begging forgiveness, the only penalty was death. This blood would be on his hands whether he wanted it there or not, whether or not they repented. Certain laws of Seireitei were absolute. And this was one of them – this special exception that allowed a shinigami to cut short a human life.

 _The game has changed. And you, unknown human, have woken the sleeping dragon. Death is coming for you._

Hitsugaya slammed the notebook closed and leapt back out his window, climbing nimbly up the side of the building he'd been living for the past few weeks, and slid effortlessly on top of the roof. The stars were dull in the sky, light pollution snuffing out all but the brightest few, which hung around the moon like tiny points of glimmering Kido. He could feel himself grow calmer in the cooling air, the moonlight refreshing the cold, glacier-covered plains and tundra of his inner world. With all the grace of a leopard, Toushiro sat, leaning back against the AC unit on top of the building. Skygazing always relaxed him somewhat, Hyourinmaru's happy, thunderous purring shaking the icy wasteland of his inner world vigorously. And tonight was no different.

Sighing, he reached up with one hand as if grasping the moon, and the faint tickle of storm and thunder grazed against his palm. He sometimes forgot that Hyourinmaru's power lay over more than ice and snow, forgot until the sky called to him in all its wild glory.

 _"_ _We will find the human, kill him, and return home,"_ Hyourinmaru said softly, and Hitsugaya flinched as both of his arms burst into silver-blue scales, claws forming on his fingertips and unfamiliar muscles pulling taut on his back. Hyourinmaru inspected the areas of affected reishi from the emerald windows of Hitsugaya's wide eyes. Then the dragon snorted with amusement.

 _"_ _You seem to have turned into a fish again."_

 _"_ _Fish? These scales look more like your dragonscales to me, unless you're calling yourself a great scaly fish."_

 _"_ _You insufferable, arrogant little hatchling. I don't know why I put up with your nonsense. Fish scales come apart like paper under even a kitten's claws, while dragon scales are harder than the strongest steel. And you dare call_ me _a fish."_

 _"_ _You started it."_

 _"_ _Well, that's because_ you _keep turning into a fishlike little wyrm. Barely a dragon, if you ask me."_

 _"_ _Yes, a fishlike little wyrm which happens to have claws. And I didn't ask you."_

 _"_ _You'll be growing your baby fangs next, little wyrmling. Truly, I never thought I'd be able to watch a baby dragon grow his little teeth."_

 _"_ _Hyourinmaru, don't give this weird disease any more ideas. And since when have I been a baby dragon, exactly?!"_

The dragon's humming laughter was pleasant in his heart, and he couldn't help smiling up at the moon despite how complex his situation had become. After a moment, the great ice drake shifted in his master's soul, still humming gently.

 _"_ _You have always been my baby dragon, little one,"_ Hyourinmaru said after a long pause. _"But even more so after Cang Du parted us and left you alone to suffer. Much would have been different if I had not been stolen."_

Hitsugaya sighed, trying not to think about that separation any more than he had to.

 _"_ _Much would have been different,"_ he agreed quietly, and looked down at his wrist where the medical cuff was dormant, the warning lights not blinking. _"Perhaps I would not…would not be so broken."_

Hyourinmaru only rumbled with melancholy assurance, trying to comfort his young shinigami. And then Hitsugaya stood up with a sigh.

 _"_ _But…I cannot change the past. And I am here now, in a place where I could – just maybe – heal from the wounds I have suffered,"_ he said. _"I have a job to do here. And I must return home, and learn to either control or reverse this strange Quirk I seem to be developing."_

 _"_ _You can be yourself here,"_ Hyourinmaru pointed out gently. _"You are not Hitsugaya-taicho."_

Toushiro nodded and started climbing back down the wall until he could slide back into his room. It was a freeing realization – the knowledge that all his behaviors in this world carried no expectations of perfection (except from himself) or promises of unparalleled power. Here, he didn't have excuses for his PTSD symptoms. But he didn't have to hide them either.

And to think – all it took was going back to school.

 _God, Matsumoto would have a field day with this._

* * *

The week of internships ended much more quickly than Izuku would have liked, and before he knew it he was going back to classes at the U.A. It was at once a welcome change and utterly disappointing, though that may have been because he ended up in the hospital for a few days. Gran Torino had given him a smile and a last vehement scolding for running off before he'd left, which he'd probably deserved, but he had learned something very important about himself while he was there.

 _He was not All Might_.

It was rather obvious once he thought about it, but at the time it had seemed groundbreaking. He hadn't realized how much his admiration of All Might had crippled him in his learning. Gran Torino had opened his eyes.

Well, mostly.

"A-aaaaah!"

 _Thump. Whumpf. Thump. Crash._

"Deku-kun!"

"Midoriya-chan!"

Uraraka and Asu- Tsuyu-chan – ran down the stairs after him as he flailed his way down and helped him get to his feet. Tsuyu looked slightly amused, her cute froggy face fixed in a big arcing smile.

"You need to look where you're going, Midoriya-chan," she chided lightly, causing Uraraka to giggle a bit as well now that they knew he was fine. He blushed a bit in embarrassment, wishing he could blame the slip of his ankle on the top step on the injury he'd received, but Recovery Girl had made absolutely certain that it was gone. He'd just tripped over his own two feet while lost in thought.

"A-ahaha. Sorry, Asu- Tsuyu-chan," he squeaked. Tsuyu just blinked her large eyes at him, her froggy face a little pink around the edges. Her tongue poked out of her mouth when she smiled.

"At your own pace is fine, Midoriya-chan," she told him, and he laughed sheepishly. The trio walked to the classroom together, chattering on about their internships. Uraraka knew some martial arts moves now, much to Midoriya's surprise and Tsuyu had also seemed to have adventures on the rescue boat she'd gone to for her internship. They both asked him about the incident with the Hero Killer, as it had made the news that he, Iida, and Todoroki had been cornered by the fanatical serial killer, and he hesitantly told them the truth. They both stared in shock, and he'd quickly gone on to explain that the police had covered up the truth to protect them from punishment. Uraraka looked a bit put out by the entire occurrence, and Tsuyu frowned as they reached the door to the classroom.

"If you three hadn't intervened, Native would have been killed," she objected, tongue flicking idly. Izuku nodded quickly.

"Yes! Yes, that's why nobody pressed charges," he assured her quickly. "I mean, I don't like it either, and you should have seen Todoroki-kun yelling at the police chief. But they were really proud of what we did – they just couldn't release our part in it to the media without admitting that we broke the law."

Uraraka kept her round face fixed firmly in a disapproving pout.

"I still say it's nonsense," she agreed with Tsuyu decisively. "But what about the Nomus?"

Izuku swung the door open in response to her question, going quiet. His mind drifted back to the slain Nomu he'd seen, de-winged with its head sliced open. That kill had made the news as well, pro-heroes and police alike agreeing that the kill must have belonged to a new vigilante or a villain who didn't like competition. Either way, the perpetrator was a wanted man for the murder of the mutated, science-experiment human. And what made it worse was that he knew _exactly_ who had killed the Nomu.

By all rights, he should have reported Hitsugaya's involvement. He should have said something to Endeavor, to the police. But he kept thinking of that bracelet on Hitsugaya's wrist, the one that declared his unstable mind to the entire world, and knew that there had to be a logical explanation to the entire affair.

Right?

"Deku-kun?"

He jumped, startled, and whirled around to laugh sheepishly at Uraraka, anxiety clear in his voice no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Uraraka looked distinctly unimpressed by the display.

"Deku-kun, why are you so spacey today?" she asked curiously, leaning up into his face. "You nearly walked into my desk."

He gaped wordlessly, searching for words as he stared at her pretty brown eyes, the sprinkled freckles so light on the bridge of her nose. Why was she always so close to his _face_ – oh god he was turning red again-

"He's probably rather tired from the events that took place in Hosu, Uraraka-san," a familiar voice said, the precocious-sounding accent instantly recognizable. Izuku and Uraraka whirled around, smiles lighting up their faces.

"Iida-kun!" they chorused, and Uraraka jumped up and down once or twice. "You're here!"

The class representative smiled, pushing his glasses a bit further up his nose as he did so. There were still bandages wrapped around his arms, but he seemed fine other than that minor detail. He gestured at Uraraka and Izuku with a few of his characteristically robotic motions.

"My wounds were healed enough for me to be released from the hospital, and Recovery Girl said I was fine to return to my schooling as long as I did not place undue stress on my arms," he explained cheerfully. Then his expression turned a bit grim, and he looked straight at Izuku, his dark blue eyes flashing behind the prescription lenses. "…that Nomu is on the news."

Izuku's face fell and he looked at the ground. His fists tightened at his sides, uncertainty dawning on his freckled cheeks.

"I know," he replied. "Iida-kun, what do we _do_?"

The brainy teenager just looked at him helplessly, ignoring the way Uraraka and Tsuyu were staring at them. There was silence for a moment, and then Iida slowly started to speak.

"I think we need to tell someone," he hesitated. Izuku bit his lip, knowing the other boy was right but also feeling incredibly awful for even considering such a thing. Hitsugaya was a decent guy, from what he'd seen. He wasn't nice – barely talked, really – but he kept his head down for the most part and behaved himself. Held the door open for the rest of the class a few times, like he was trying to be nice without speaking – that kind of thing.

And then, as if the universe herself was punishing them for talking about Hitsugaya behind his back, the white-haired boy himself walked in. His appearance was clean and pressed, like usual, the soft fringe of his too-white hair falling into his left eye. He had his messenger bag and sword with him, as usual and he set the bag down on his desk with a thump to take his books out. The metal cuffs on the sword's hilt glinted in the fluorescent classroom lights.

The metal cuffs.

"…the cuffs on his sword are still locked," Izuku breathed, eyes wide. "But his sword was drawn when he was on the roof."

Iida blinked and glanced up to see for himself. Then he paled slightly, watching as Izuku's mind turned over, churning with theories. If it really was Hitsugaya on the roof that night, then that meant he'd found a way to get the sheath off his blade without breaking the cuffs – which he shouldn't be able to do without a strength Quirk anyway. But if he hadn't managed to break the cuffs, or find a way to get them off…then how could he have been the person on the roof? And if he hadn't been the person on the roof, then who had managed to copy his _exact appearance_?

Whatever the answer was, it was quickly becoming clear that there was a lot more to Hitsugaya than there seemed to be. Because if he'd managed to get the sheath off his blade without breaking the cuffs, then it meant he _had_ been the person on the roof, and almost certainly also the person who'd killed the Nomu. That, in turn, meant that he'd somehow known about the Nomus in Hosu and had used his weird, not-speed Quirk to get there, or had been in Hosu prior to the Nomu attack for reasons that _couldn't_ have been coincidental. But if he _hadn't_ been the person on the roof, then he was somehow connected to them – in a big way. Why else would someone have stolen his identity just to kill a Nomu?

 _What was going on with Hitsugaya?_

* * *

 **And uh oh, someone is starting to put the pieces together...And on top of that, Hitsugaya now has a job to do.**

 **Outstanding reviews will be offered spoilers, if the reviewer so wishes. :)**

 **~avtorSola**


	9. Crescendo

**A/N: Sorry-not-sorry for the wait - when I get stuck on upcoming chapters I tend to skip to the end of the story and write that, but then I got on a roll concerning the aftermath of the climax...Oh well.** **Thank you for 100 reviews - 20 on the last chapter!**

 **But now, on with the sufferi- story. I'm not trying to torture Hitsugaya, I swear...(fingers crossed)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

He was distracted all morning by Hitsugaya's calm presence in the back of the classroom, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, all through English with Present Mic and into their biology class. He could tell that Iida was bothered by the white-haired teenager as well, his back unusually stiff as he was taking painfully slow notes with his injured arms. But Hitsugaya seemed perfectly at ease, scribbling in his notebook at a speed entirely out of sync with the notes the teacher was writing on the board.

For the first time, Izuku found himself really thinking about the white-haired boy, mulling over the little information that he and the rest of the class knew. Hitsugaya had been in class with them for just over three weeks, including the week of the internship, and during that time he'd only ever sat with them once at lunch – that first day when they'd all introduced themselves. Other than that, they'd barely seen him outside of the classroom. He lived on campus – that much Izuku knew for sure – and appeared to either stay in his room the whole time or work in the library as part of the work-study program. He knew that Hitsugaya had been diagnosed with severe PTSD from reading his medical-alert bracelet, and everyone had known about his brief encounter with Elasticity and the weird monster thing.

And then, Izuku saw it. His forest-green eyes widened in shock.

He could still remember what Principal Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei had said about Hitsugaya, with almost perfect clarity. But something didn't match up.

 _"…We have jointly determined that he is not a threat to anyone's safety and is likely suffering from head trauma in conjunction with a difficult past, which would account for both his behavior and his lack of information about himself…"_

 _"…beyond this, he does not appear to exist on any form of official documentation. However, since the police cannot justify keeping him behind bars, it has been decided that he will remain in a controlled environment where pro-heroes can keep an eye on him…"_

 _"…we are trying to allow him a safe environment for his mind to recuperate enough to give us clues as to his origin…"_

Hitsugaya wasn't supposed to remember his past – or even exist according to the government records. Or at least, that's what he'd told the police, and apparently the head injury he'd received had explained enough of the information gaps that nobody had thought to pursue the matter further. But Hitsugaya himself had said something that had run almost completely counter to that statement.

 _"I don't know what kind of golden dream world you live in, but I didn't grow up in such a precious, sheltered environment."_

If Hitsugaya really did suffer from amnesia, what on earth did that statement mean? It wasn't likely that the boy had lied when yelling at Todoroki – he'd been too worked up to be thinking about what he was saying. So if he could remember enough to know that he hadn't grown up the same way that the rest of them probably had, what exactly had he forgotten to make him too lost to go home? And there was still what he had said about the huge monster – the creature that the media was still speculating about even three weeks later.

 _"I have the knowledge on how to kill those things. And I have the experience to actually do it. So yes. Killing 'one big monster' makes me qualified to give advice. Because I am never going to let any innocent people get hurt because of my weakness again."_

He'd practically admitted to knowing the monster was. Or, more accurately, to _remembering_ what the monster was, because he had said that he'd had experience actually killing them. He'd said he could remember seeing people bitten in half – Izuku stifled a shiver – and 'letting' innocent people die because he hadn't been able to defeat the weird monsters. While that was more than likely the cause of his PTSD, it still indicated that he had a lot of memories that were intact enough to scare him. So…if he could remember his childhood and the events that made him traumatized enough to wear a medical-alert bracelet, why hadn't the police figured out where he was from?

The only logical explanation Izuku could think of was that Hitsugaya was lying about how much he could remember. That he was faking amnesia in order to- to do something. And if he was lying to the pro-heroes…then it meant he must have sided with the villains. Which meant he'd probably known about the Nomus attacking Hosu. But if he really was on the villains' side, then why had he killed one of the Nomus? What was the point of that? Was he rather a vigilante of some kind, unable to stand by and watch while he had this amazingly powerful Quirk?

 _"If you are born with power and do not use it to assist others, you are the worst kind of person."_

Hitsugaya's low, vehement tone echoed in his head. The sheer intensity of the teenager's conviction when he had said those words was still fresh in Izuku's memory, still utterly clear. There was no way someone so passionate about this belief could ever turn to crime. Crime had no benefactor except the perpetrator. But vigilantism – that could arguably be what Hitsugaya had turned to in search of some way to help the people he saw suffering. And above all, it would explain why he was so reclusive, and why he had been diagnosed with PTSD in the first place.

Izuku wasn't sure whether to be impressed or worried. If his theory was right, then Hitsugaya could be thrown in prison regardless of his age. Vigilantism and lying to the police weren't crimes taken lightly, especially in the age of licensed hero-work. Or, even worse, he could be imprisoned in a mental institution considering his psychiatric issues and _then_ shuttled over to a proper prison once he was well enough to be released. But, like Iida-kun had said, they needed to tell someone about Hitsugaya – or the person wearing his face – killing the Nomu.

The biology teacher interrupted his thoughts with a loud clap of his hands and a smile, pulling a screen down over the blackboard behind him and lowering the projector from the ceiling. The dark-haired man was speaking – as he had been the whole class period – on interspecies relationships in the environment. Earlier, he'd been talking mostly about symbiotic relationships. Now, it seemed he'd moved on to parasitic relationships, where the parasite leeched off its host to create a more suitable environment for themselves.

"…so to better explain this, I've pulled up a video about a particular kind of parasitic relationship I think you all will find both cool and a little bit creepy," he said, pressing the play button on his laptop. Almost immediately, the black screen cut to a picture of a cockroach and jewel-like green wasp. Izuku stared, watching as the two insects interacted with some interest. A narrator began to speak, talking over the slight clicking noises of the insects.

 _"…ready to reproduce, the female jewel wasp must find a cockroach and turn it into a zombie by injecting a special venom into its brain…"_

Izuku recoiled as the narrator explained that the wasp venom made the cockroach docile and easy to manipulate for the wasp, who would herd it into a burrow, lay an egg on it, and barricade it in. And because of the zombification venom, the cockroach would just sit there placidly while the wasp larva hatched and slowly ate its way through its zombified host. It was a mildly horrifying example of a parasitic relationship. Who knew zombies could be real?

 _CRASH._

The entire class nearly jumped out of their seats at the loud bang, then turned around to Hitsugaya lying on the ground, his desk and chair overturned, his skin white with terror as he clawed at the tile beneath him, whimpering helplessly. His emerald eyes glittered with standing tears, the pupils dilated to tiny pinpricks of black in a sea of cold turquoise-green.

Pandemonium erupted for a brief moment, the teacher panicking upon seeing the new student seizing on the ground. But then Class 1-A was moving, picking up desks and shifting them aside so that Hitsugaya had room to thrash and struggle, and Todoroki moved in close, frost glinting on his right palm. Gently, he laid his cold hand on Hitsugaya's forehead, but the white-haired teen didn't make any visible acknowledgement of Todoroki's presence, staring through his classmate's concerned face as he convulsed on the ground.

"Hitsugaya-kun! Hitsugaya-kun, are you alright?" the half-and-half boy asked urgently, but Hitsugaya didn't respond, staring vacantly up at the lights above his head. Then the mysterious teenager convulsed again, and Todoroki spun to look at Iida, sliding a hand beneath Hitsugaya's torso and carefully pulling him more upright, so that he was kneeling, halfway collapsed in Todoroki's arms.

"Get the trash can!" the dual-element wielder called, and the class representative sped over to pick up the trash can, returning just in time for Kouda to slide the wastebasket under Hitsugaya's limp head. Almost on cue, the unresponsive teenager convulsed again, and this time he followed through with the motion, puking violently into the trash can. Without thinking, Izuku knelt on Hitsugaya's other side and smoothed the long white fringe out of the glassy green stare, rubbing the boy's back in small circles. He already knew what was happening, and as he'd expected, it wasn't pretty.

"Hitsugaya-kun, what's wrong?" Todoroki asked again, talking over his classmates who were all asking variants of the same question. Izuku looked up and took a deep breath.

"Everyone, stop talking," he said, hands shaking a little bit. "He can't hear us right now. I think someone should get Recovery Girl."

Almost immediately, the biology teacher volunteered, and he took off out the door like someone had a lit a fire under his butt. The class watched him go with a hint of incredulity, and then Bakugo snorted derisively.

"Fuckin' pansy. Can't even handle Snowy puking his guts up," the explosive teen said with a scowl. Then the blonde boy rounded on Todoroki and Izuku, red eyes both hostile and careful, the guarded anger strangely like worry. "Deku, what the fuck is wrong with Snowy?"

Bakugo gestured violently at the unresponsive teenager lying in Todoroki's arms, yellow-green bile trickling from his mouth, Izuku carefully holding his lolling head over the trash can. Izuku bit his lower lip, still gently rubbing Hitsugaya's back, a pang of guilt rolling through him at what he was about to do.

"…he has PTSD," Izuku finally said, lowering his head a bit. "I saw it on his medical-alert band. He's probably having a flashback of some kind."

The class was quiet at that, allowing the two boys carefully handling their unresponsive classmate to speak to him in soft undertones, trying to coax him back into reality. Hitsugaya vomited again during that period, puking bile into the trash can, and finally stopped thrashing around. He started to curl in on himself instead, drawing his knees up to his chest, still staring straight ahead with those terrifyingly empty eyes.

Izuku blinked.

Were Hitsugaya's pupils always thin, slitted lines of black?

And then he blinked again and the illusion was gone. He resumed rubbing his mysterious classmate's back gently, frowning at the terribly hard knots he was finding in the muscle right over Hitsugaya's shoulder blades. The knots were so bad his back almost felt lumpy. And then Aizawa burst through the door, his scraggly hair even more frazzled than usual. Recovery Girl was right behind him, watching from the door as he skidded onto his knees where Todoroki and Midoriya huddled on either side of Hitsugaya's crumpled form.

"Both of you back up. Tell me what happened," he commanded, easily taking Hitsugaya's curled form out of Todoroki's arms and lifting him. Aizawa's glance shot to the bile on the unresponsive teenager's lips. "Did he throw up?"

Todoroki nodded anxiously, looking worried.

"Twice, and he was convulsing for a while as well," Shouto said seriously. "…we were watching a video on how jewel wasps zombify cockroaches – parasitic relationships."

Recovery Girl stepped forward, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Aizawa, take Hitsugaya-kun to the infirmary. He's going to need a quiet place to calm down," she ordered sternly. Then she looked at the class with some approval. "You lot get back to your studies. You handled the situation rather well, all things considered. And you shouldn't worry. Hitsugaya-kun will likely be back before lunch, and he's in no real danger."

There was a collective breath of relief at the announcement, and then Izuku remembered the Nomu back in Hosu, and he stepped forward uncertainly.

"Actually…Aizawa-sensei, can I talk to you?" he asked slowly. The pro-hero gave him a strange look, then glanced at Recovery Girl, who shrugged and gave silent permission for the green-haired boy to tag along. Iida nodded shallowly at him as he trotted out of the room after Aizawa and the unresponsive Hitsugaya, and Izuku nodded back. But he didn't get to speak until after Hitsugaya had come out of the terrified stupor.

It was saddening, watching as Aizawa and Recovery Girl carefully coaxed the teenager out of his head, and it took far longer than he would have expected. A full ten minutes had passed before Hitsugaya began to show any signs at all of regaining awareness of where he was, and when he started to regain his mental faculties it was a heartbreaking spectacle. The first thing that crossed his face was sheer horror, followed almost immediately anger and then bone-shattering guilt, finished by a numb ennui that Izuku knew must be gut wrenching. The tears were the worst part. He could just barely see Hitsugaya crying into Aizawa's shoulder, limp in the teacher's embrace, anger and guilt and lingering terror still mixed perfectly in his expression. But he could hear every hiccup, every whimper of abject misery coming from the boy he'd only ever known as politely standoffish and apathetic.

And then it stopped making sense, the conclusion he'd come to about Hitsugaya being some kind of vigilante. If the boy was this fragmented, and had flashbacks so horrifying they rendered him nearly catatonic, how on earth could he have brought himself to kill a creature which had been human?

 _The same way he killed the first monster_ a little voice at the back of his mind whispered carefully. _Because he wanted to protect someone._

Hitsugaya was given some kind of sleeping medication, which he took without an iota of hesitation, and was allowed to fall asleep in an infirmary bed, tear tracks drying on his face. And then Aizawa came over to Izuku, looking melancholy, his expression grave.

"…What did you want to talk to me about, Midoriya-kun?" he asked tiredly. Izuku took a deep breath.

"…I need to tell you something…"

* * *

All Might was, to say the least, very concerned when he saw Hitsugaya Toushiro arrive in the middle of his explanation to Class 1-A what Field Gamma was. He knew from lunch in the staff office that the boy had finally collapsed in class, a nature documentary about parasitic relationships apparently triggering what was his most violent episode to date. He was escorted by Recovery Girl, his eyes fixed firmly on the grass crunching under his grey high-top sneakers, his face shaded by the long white fringe of his hair. He'd already changed into the UA gym uniform, as he still lacked a hero costume like the rest of his classmates, and was clearly being allowed to participate in the exercise by Recovery Girl.

But the deadness in his expression was worrying. His golden face had hardened into granite with stony rage, and it was obvious he was twitching in an effort to suppress some reaction.

He took a brief pause, smiling broadly at his kids – the students of course – and turned to the petite old woman in charge of every injured student the school saw. He didn't make any attempt to hide the concern on his smiling face. Hitsugaya Toushiro was quite obviously a very troubled child, and if what the lovely school librarian said about his absolute avoidance of his peers was true, then he needed to know that there were indeed adults who cared about him. He needed to understand that he would be protected and sheltered, kept safe from the horrors that must be in his past. And so All Might, after talking to Recovery Girl for just a moment, turned to Hitsugaya with a kind grin.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun, it's wonderful to see that you're feeling better," the muscled hero proclaimed in a respectful undertone. "However, it would be perfectly alright with me if you would prefer to watch this particular exercise for today. And don't be afraid to speak up! I understand that you might be a little tired after-"

"I'm fine."

The cool voice cut All Might off in midsentence, a dangerous edge in the tone that made the hair on the back of Toshinori's thick neck stand up. Hitsugaya looked up then, and the sheer coldness tainted by blackened wrath echoing in the yawning emerald pits of his eyes took Toshinori's breath away. He had rarely seen emotion this raw and dark in any person, save one. All-For-One.

This did not bode well.

But Toshinori put aside his misgivings for the moment. Because aside from the churning mass of anger and indifference and cruelty boiling inside this boy, there was also a heartbreaking sense of directionless vulnerability. It was evident in every paranoid twitch, in every terrified flinch when Recovery Girl drifted a little bit too close. He was dark and hurting, that much was true. But with a little guidance, perhaps he would come back.

"…Ah, right you are," All Might agreed with a soft nod. "But just know that it's perfectly fine with me if you decide to sit and watch."

Hitsugaya appeared to get the message, the yawning darkness in his gemstone glance fading into mere shadow, and he nodded a quick thank you before striding off to the edge of the group. Recovery Girl gave him a significant look, a sure sign she had something important to tell him later, then turned and left. The rest of the lesson proceeded smoothly, the concept of the exercise quickly grasped by every one of his students, and he then proceeded to divide them into four groups, placing Hitsugaya in the last group with Bakugo Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Yaoyorozu Momo, Mineta Minoru, and Koji Kouda.

The first group were all allowed to proceed to their starting places after he'd hidden himself in the maze of Training Field Gamma, and he watched their progress on the screen projected from his wristwatch. Midoriya's performance was particularly encouraging, as it appeared that he'd learned to fully control the power of One-For-All while under Gran Torino's tutelage. It seemed that his body could still only handle a very little bit, but it was enough to make his moves superhumanly fast and strong. He had to chuckle when the boy slipped on a narrow pipe, however, remember his own fumbling when he'd first figured out how to use One-For-All's power. Sero Hanta also performed very well, his abilities in the air giving him a considerable advantage over the other four in his group.

There were outstanding performers in the next two groups as well, Asui Tsuyu taking full advantage of her ability to jump long distances and climb vertical surfaces, and Todoroki Shouto creating rudimentary bridges out of ice. But by the time that the final group rolled around, it was clear to him that Hitsugaya was fully intending to participate. That determination worried him the slightest bit – surely the boy was pushing himself – but he let it happen anyway. The six split up to their respective starting points, Bakugo predictably snarling at the others before arriving at his designated place. And then, once he was sure that they were all comfortably situated, he blew the distress signal, watching the screens with a hint of curiosity.

And just like at the U.A. Sports Festival, Hitsugaya disappeared in split-second blur of color. He blinked with a hint of surprise, then whirled around in shock when a cool touch came on his shoulder.

"I told you I was fine."

Perched on the railing behind him was Hitsugaya, his white hair ruffled, his expression calm. The tension was still stretching the skin of his corded neck, pulling taut on something – obviously using his Quirk hadn't tired the stress out of him. Stricken, All Might couldn't help but stare for a second before processing exactly what the boy was saying.

"…Shadow sparring?" he repeated after a moment. "No, no, of course you may do such a thing as long as you are careful of your surroundings. But concerning your Quirk – were you able to properly use it just now?"

Hitsugaya nodded, sliding off the railing into a practiced stance. A sigh escaped him.

"Yes. I was completely in control," he said, a note of finality in his voice. All Might held his breath for a moment, trying not to let any of his incredulity slip, and managed a winning smile.

"Ah, that's wonderful to hear, young man," he said, then lost his breath again as Hitsugaya began to glide through a series of practiced movements ending either with high kicks or smashing, open-palm strikes similar to punches. The boy's technique was unmistakably that of a master, and not for the first time All Might was reminded just how dangerous this child could be.

He was so completely engrossed by the flawless sparring movements that it took the noisy explosions of Bakugo's arrival to break him from the trance. The muscular blonde man turned around quickly, spotting the cantankerous teenager propelling himself up and over a ridge of steely generators, and quickly gave him a bright smile and the congratulatory message he'd given everyone else. But Bakugo wasn't having any of it, and he stomped forward with a growl and shoved Hitsugaya off balance just as the white-haired teenager was practically doing the splits with a high roundhouse kick.

All Might's admonition was lost in a breath of shock as Hitsugaya used the momentum of losing his balance to bend backwards, plant a palm on the ground and deliver a sharp uppercut to Bakugo's chin with the top of his foot, then flip twice before landing nimbly on his feet on the thin railing he'd previously been standing on. And then the Symbol of Peace forced himself to think and move, stepping in to chide both boys for their misbehavior. Bakugo was aggressive as usual, but he wasn't the type to directly defy authority and All Might knew his gruff exterior hid a healthy respect for his teachers. He backed off from the white-haired boy almost immediately, rubbing at his bruised chin with a sour glare. But Hitsugaya's emerald glare was burning, smoldering with anger and a burst of terror that belied the initial panic he must have felt upon being pushed, and he nearly went after Bakugo before he seemed to catch himself.

The other four students arrived shortly after the incident, and then All Might herded all his kids together to talk to them about their performances during the exercise. After he'd finished talking, he'd invited them to analyze their own abilities, and Midoriya, as had become standard, hesitantly gave a few of the students advice about how they could have used their Quirks during the exercise. Iida also had a few ideas, as did Yaoyorozu, and they talked everything over before he dismissed class for the day.

Once the students were out of sight, All Might returned to the school building and changed out of his costume so he didn't have to keep using One-For-All. Then he checked his phone and saw that the staff meeting about their newest addition to the hero course had been pushed forward to that afternoon on Aizawa's request. He checked his watch, knowing that what he'd seen today would be important for the discussion.

He had to be there in five minutes.

"Oh My Goodness!"

* * *

 **So, Class 1-A gets their first encounter with how f-ed up our poor shinigami taicho is. Thoughts? Spoilers are still possible rewards for helpful reviews! :)**

 **In response to the anonymous reviewer known as 'star' - A few things - I was always under the impression that humans did have reiatsu, but only a very minor, non-accessible amount in comparison to spiritual anomalies like Shinigami, Quincy, or Hollows. This discrepancy may be because I am reading a different translation, but until I can find a definitive answer somewhere I'll just stick with what I know. And Hitsugaya isn't nerfed, lol. I don't know how many people have realized this, but he was in the Living World when the portal opened up. And when Captains and Lieutenants are in the Living World, they have to wear limiters. And on top of this, Hitsugaya has to consciously restrain himself to behave a little more like a human would. He's ridiculously OP in the BnHA world, so I have to figure out how to curtail his abilities at least by a little bit.**

 **Also, I am basing Hitsugaya's behavior on typical behavioral patterns of adults and teenagers with PTSD. If he is a little bit OOC, it is because I have analyzed his character and determined which PTSD symptoms he is likely to exhibit. If you aren't averse to logging in to your account to leave your commentary, I can PM you my sources for you to peruse at your leisure.**

 **Thank you for your review!**


	10. Unmasked (With and Without a Zanpakutou)

**A/N: Oooooh, here it goes! I'm hype :D Gonna get the pros POV here. :)**

 **Enjoy! Also, there's a book of an A/N at the end. It's not necessary to read it unless you want to know my (as an author practicing writing techniques) reasons for slapping Hitsugaya with PTSD - because to be honest, I could have written this story without him experiencing that, though I think it would be worse off without it.**

* * *

Aizawa and agitated were not two words often found in the same sentence, but there was no other way to describe the man when All Might hurried into the staff room, considerably confused by the timing of the meeting. The students still had their last homeroom period of the day, and yet all of the Pro-heroes at the school seemed to have abandoned their classes in favor of attending. When he asked, he found that they _all_ had apparently called for substitutes at the last minute, even pulling the librarian away from her usual job to monitor Class 1-B. It was a move that had All Might's stomach in knots. If all the pro-heroes were behaving like this, perfectly okay with abandoning their classes, it meant that someone had discovered something about Hitsugaya Toushiro. Something big.

He took a seat next to Present Mic and nodded genially at Nedzu, a hint of confusion on his face as he looked around the room. The general atmosphere was grim, and Aizawa in particular was disturbed, his head cradled in his hands.

"…What did I miss?" he asked then, knowing that he needed to hear the answer even if he'd prefer to remain ignorant. Nedzu pressed his paws together.

"We may have been played for fools, taking what Hitsugaya-kun said at face value," the white mouse said gravely. "I expected that he was hiding something, but I had hope that the child would turn out to be simply that, a lost boy. Now it seems we must be a little harsher on him."

All Might felt his heart sink into what was left of his stomach, and he took a shallow breath in an effort to hold back his grief at the thought of such a young boy lost to the shadow of evil. Aizawa lifted his head then, revealing the emotions warring on his face.

"Midoriya was the one who brought it to my attention," he said quietly. "Apparently Hitsugaya said some things to his classmates that don't line up with his story, namely the portion where he cannot recall his past. According to Midoriya, Hitsugaya has admitted to having knowledge concerning the monster at the Sports Festival, and has also snapped at a classmate for having a sheltered lifestyle compared to his own past. And…and there's something even more incriminating."

This other something seemed to be a new piece of information, and the other pro-heroes leaned forward in transfixed horror and curiosity. Aizawa took a deep breath.

"Midoriya saw Hitsugaya in Hosu the night of the Hero Killer's arrest and the Nomu attack. He says that they had just passed the mysteriously slain Nomu when he looked up and saw Hitsugaya standing on top of the office building on the other side of the street, holding a butterfly of some kind," Aizawa revealed, but there was a strange catch in his voice. "However – and this is mostly Midoriya's theory, mind you, but it makes a lot of sense – Midoriya said that Hitsugaya's blade was unsheathed, but in class today the cuff locking his sword into the sheath was still in place and showed no sign of tampering. This indicates one of two things; either Hitsugaya has found a way to remove and replace the cuff without breaking it, or that the person Midoriya saw last week wasn't Hitsugaya, but a doppelganger of some kind."

Midnight's eyes widened at that last sentence.

"But if it wasn't Hitsugaya, that means that…" her voice trailed off, and Nedzu finished the statement for her, looking grim.

"Then it means that someone knows that Hitsugaya-kun's power would be a perfect cover for killing the Nomu, had the means to impersonate him, and likely knew him at some point before this dubious memory loss," the mouse explained quietly. "Did Midoriya tell you anything else? That boy has a keen eye for analysis."

Aizawa shook his head.

"Only theories," the teacher said, his voice muffled by his hands, which he'd again dropped his head into. "He thinks that if Hitsugaya was in Hosu that night, then he's most likely a vigilante rather than a villain. Apparently Hitsugaya was very passionate, and more than a little vicious, when he'd been speaking to his classmates during the conversation where his mention of having some memories slipped out, and said something along the lines of 'those with power must use it to help others, otherwise they're selfish for not acting when they could prevent others from suffering'. It made quite the impression – apparently he rendered Bakugo speechless during that little encounter."

That elicited a weak chuckle from the adults familiar with Bakugo's temperament, and then All Might sighed.

"I have to agree with young Midoriya here – Hitsugaya probably is responsible for the Nomu's death, if only looking from a technical standpoint," he said heavily. "Hitsugaya-kun's performance today during the exercise was beyond excellent, and his control over his Quirk is precise enough to allow him to travel over a hundred meters and land on a narrow railing in the blink of an eye. In addition, he's somehow an incredibly accomplished martial artist. He asked for permission to shadow spar, and I…I have never seen a fifteen-year-old boy move that gracefully. He even managed to turn being knocked off balance to his advantage."

There was a short silence and then All Might took a deep, steadying breath and said the words weighing so heavily on his mind.

"With his Quirk and martial arts skill…I don't honestly know if even I could truly contain him," the blonde man said worriedly. "His Quirk would make him a challenge to hit even with the air pressure of a punch considering he can simply use his Quirk to both get out of range and return faster than I can move, and his martial arts skill may even be able to do some damage, especially when combined with the momentum of his Quirk. Relieved of his blade, I believe I may have an easier time, as he could not build a significant amount of momentum for attack purposes without risking injury from accumulated resistance from the material, but separating him from that blade would be difficult."

That brought a chill to the room, and Nedzu nodded heavily again, pressing his chin into his paw.

"I suspected as much." The mouse sighed. "That's a battle of speed versus strength, and while you'd win if you landed a blow, the chances of that happening are small if he's a skilled fighter. However, there are a few things you are all overlooking. One, aside from Midoriya's word, we have no proof that Hitsugaya was ever in Hosu. Two, even if we had proof that he was in Hosu, unless we can conclusively prove that he can unsheathe his blade without the key, which I keep on my keyring, then we can't definitively identify him as the Nomu's killer. Three, this boy is suffering from severe PTSD, and as such may behave somewhat erratically. It's likely that he may remember something of his past but be too terrified of it to say something to us, and it may have been this which he mentioned to his classmates in a moment of anger or terror. And four, he leapt between two of our students and a monster we have never seen before of his own accord even though he was on the run for unknown reasons."

Nedzu looked around the room seriously, sipping at a cup of tea. The bell rang then, signaling the end of classes for the day, but the teachers ignored it, and Nedzu continued.

"It is obvious to everyone here that Hitsugaya-kun has lied, both to us and to the police, but as of now we have no proof that he was breaking the law through either villainy or vigilantism. We have been played, yes. That much is clear. We are now aware that he knows what the monster that attacked during the Sports Festival is, and that this information has been kept from us looks distinctively shady. But we must remember that we are dealing with a child scarred by trauma, who is likely not thinking his decisions through as well as he could. I think it would be best to give him the benefit of the doubt." The mouse's gaze swept the table, unsurprised to see the nods of agreement from the genial Present Mic and All Might.

But to everyone's surprise, Aizawa stood up then, his trademark tired expression replaced by a grim determination.

"I would like to be one to confront him about this," he said firmly. "…I believe that Hitsugaya-kun trusts me to some extent."

Nedzu raised a mousy eyebrow but nodded, and Midnight tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"What makes you think that, Eraserhead?" she asked, "Usually All Might is the one that inspires trust with the kids."

Aizawa glared at her for a second, then went quiet for a moment, his expression sad.

"His medical-alert bracelet alerts my cell phone," he said finally. "And I received a call two weeks ago that he was having a flashback, before the kids went on their internships, so I went up to his dorm room and found him on the floor. Once he calmed down he tried to throw me off, and the little brat must have screamed himself hoarse calling me nasty names, but…I think he was still in denial of his mental state up until that point. My arrival, what I said to him then – it must have broken down some wall he had, made him realize that I wasn't upset because I already knew what was going on inside his head."

Aizawa looked Nedzu straight in the eye, glaring fiercely.

"And I _didn't_ _see him cry_ ," the man said slowly, emphasizing each word with a meaningful punch on the last syllable. "You understand what I'm trying to say, I assume."

Nedzu's nose twitched, his whiskers jittering a bit, and he smiled at the dark-haired man with a bit of bitter understanding. They all knew that no matter who fronted the conversation, confronting Hitsugaya would be highly unpleasant.

"Of course. You can be the one to talk to him, though I would like for Midnight, All Might, and I to be close by," Nedzu agreed. "Now…shall we go find the young man in question?"

And then they heard the earsplitting howl of an unearthly predator echoing from outside, the mad cackle of a villain's cruel laughter horribly loud ripping through the atmosphere, and the terrified screams of students. Thoughts of Hitsugaya vanished and after a split-second pause, the pro-hero teachers of U.A. scattered out various exits. All Might, now swollen with One-For-All, leapt out of an open window, while Present Mic, and Midnight ran for the stairs, Nedzu and a few other hot on their tail. Aizawa followed All Might out the window, using the bandages wrapped around his shoulders to support him on his descent to the ground.

The villains – no, the _monsters_ – had appeared near the front entrance of the school, where all the students were trying to exit to go home, and as the pros appeared on scene it became clear that the monsters were targeting the children, their cackling laughter and screeching howls only serving to terrify the students into panic. Many of the students were already sprinting for the safety of the school, Present Mic's deafening voice already commanding them inside. But All Might knew he couldn't afford to waste any time – he only had twenty minutes left at best, and the monsters were still targeting the stragglers. He leapt forward, leg muscles surging, One-For-All humming with the combined superhuman strength of eight people all buoyed by its power.

"TEXAS SMASH!"

His fist collided with the white bone of one of the creatures' masks, and it howled in ear-bleeding rage as it was thrown several yards away onto its spiked back. But that was it. There was no further damage, no cowering or writhing. One-For-All had only mildly injured it, and only thrown it about twenty meters away in total. It got back to its feet, spitting mad, a slight crack in the white plate of carved bone covering its face. All Might felt a shiver of fear crackle into his expression, turning the smile into a grimace of determination. But the Symbol of Peace didn't leave innocent children to suffer, and neither did Toshinori Yagi.

And the Pro-heroes fought for all of five minutes, dodging as best as they could, only able to launch mild counteroffensives that seemed to do little damage. Even Snipe's bullets seemed to be doing nothing. All Might was the only one able to contend with the monsters on any sort of equal footing, his blows obviously injuring the creatures through repeated blunt-force trauma. But they were being pushed back, and these four monsters were substantially smaller than the one which had appeared at the Sports Festival. All Might didn't even want to think about the damage that would happen if another one of those appeared.

And then the sky split again, warping strangely to look like a gaping mouth slowly opening to swallow up the blue of the cloudless sky. The strange monsters all froze momentarily, turning their masks toward it as if waiting for something, yet they shivered in fear when the being inside the portal stepped out. It was a man, probably in his early twenties, with a short brown ponytail and dark, cold eyes. A fragment of what looked to be the same type of bony mask as the monsters' masks clung to his upper jaw, sharp teeth etched in relief into the bone, the fragment covering the entire left side of his face beneath his eye. And just where his heart would be, an empty hole gaped through his chest. The man grinned a crazed grin, leering down at the pros below him as he floated effortlessly in the air. The pros stared, flabbergasted by how he appeared to be standing on the air. What kind of Quirk could allow for that?

And then the man spoke, and they felt their hearts stop.

"Stupid Hollows," he said with a scoff, falling lightly to the earth and landing on his feet, the billowing white hakama on his legs ruffling noisily in the wind. "Can't even kill a bunch of stupid humans without fucking up."

 _…_ _Stupid humans?_

But then then Hollows – was that actually what these monsters were called? – resumed their attacks, and the pros again leapt back into action. The man-with-no-heart watched, apparently bored with the display, and absently dragged one of the…the _Hollows_ off of the clustered pros to reveal a ragged Present Mic, gasping for breath and sporting several bloody gashes. He tried to speak, but only started coughing instead, his Quirk obviously spent.

And then the weird Hollow-like man sucked in a huge breath, and the Hollow _screamed_ as it dissolved into bloody particles and was swallowed. The pros gaped in horror, Midnight supporting the dazed Present Mic as best as she could even though she was bleeding from a head wound, gazing through the space where the Hollow's body had been before it had been eaten.

 _Eaten alive._

The weird man smirked again, then reached for the hilt of the short wakizashi blade strapped to his waist.

"Ah, that was refreshingly disgusting," he proclaimed with a wicked laugh, then turned a hungry gaze on the pros and the school behind them. "But I think it's time for dessert. Humans do always taste the sweetest, even if they're weaklings…"

All Might felt sickening revulsion wash over him, his destroyed stomach lurching painfully in his abdomen. Someone retched behind him, the thought of this humanoid villain _eating the students_ almost too much to bear. He readied his fists, reaching back through the years of his predecessors' power to grasp at the true strength of One-For-All.

And then he stopped. A flash of black and white had filled his vision, the character 'Ten' emblazoned on the back of a traditionally styled coat called a haori, and a mop of silver-tinged white hair tickled at his shoulder. A golden hand rested lightly on top of his fist, the unspoken 'step down' painfully obvious. Hitsugaya stood between All Might and the Hollows, facing the man in the half-mask with a worryingly emotionless expression. He was wearing unusually traditional clothes – the garments he'd been wearing when he'd been captured by the police – including billowing black hakama and a black kosode. Without saying anything, Hitsugaya took a single step forward. The Hollows – still not sure if that's what they were actually called – all instantly disengaged from the pros, leaping towards the young teenager as a group, howling in animalistic greed.

All Might didn't really know when he moved, only that when he lunged forward to grab the young man by the waist and haul him out of the way, the nearest Hollow's claws dug into his bicep. He gritted his teeth and pulled, throwing the white-haired boy out of the way and behind him, then fell, the Hollows piling on top of him with gleeful screeches. The screams of his colleagues were drowned out by their clamor.

And then, before their jaws could close and the Symbol of Peace could forever be lost, there was a brief flicker of white, and all three of the Hollows instantly split down the middle lengthwise. There was silence for a moment, then a series of loud thuds as the half-carcasses hit the ground. Hitsugaya landed lightly on his feet just beyond the pile of Hollow bodies, still standing silently. The silver steel of his blade – unsheathed – glinted in his hand, and as it did so, the Hollow carcasses began to dissolve into tiny particles of black dust.

The strange not-human man-with-a-half-mask clapped his hands in a slow, drawling clap, but when Hitsugaya took another step forward, the half-masked man backed away slowly. Slowly, the pros began to realize the wavering amusement on the brunette villain's face was masking fear. Fear of the fifteen-year-old boy standing between them and this last enemy.

"…Your Garganta is still open," Hitsugaya finally spoke, and when he did his tone was icy cold, devoid of any life or warmth. A chill crept down All Might's spine when the strange Hollow man looked up nervously at the gaping crack in the sky, then back at the white-haired teenager in the old-fashioned clothing. Hitsugaya had called the crack in the sky a Gra- Garganta. Here was conclusive proof that he knew what these monsters were, and had been keeping it from them. All Might felt sorry for Aizawa, who had thought he had made such a breakthrough.

It seemed Hitsugaya wasn't quite a hero after all. Though…perhaps he wasn't a villain either.

"…You should leave," Hitsugaya continued in that same chilling tone, the one that promised death. The air started to feel a little bit thick and heavy, abnormally cold for this time of year. The Hollow-like man was pale as a ghost and shaking now.

"Y-you're…" he stammered. "B-but this…this is a new world- you…you aren't supposed to-"

"Do not presume to tell me where I should and should not be, scum," Hitsugaya's words were frigid, and as the pros watched in stricken silence, he began to glow faintly. What kind of Quirk did this boy have? It clearly wasn't a mere speed Quirk at this point.

The Hollow-like man stiffened, then gritted his teeth and drew his blade. Almost instantly Hitsugaya had both hands on the hilt of the long, sharp sword, holding effortlessly out in front of him, the easy movements beyond graceful. His emerald gaze was bright with warning.

"If you attack me or any here, you will die," the teenager's low threat carried through the courtyard, startling the pros out of their stunned stupor. Aizawa sprinted forward, yelling for Hitsugaya to drop the weapon and retreat to the safety of the school. And then Hitsugaya glanced back over his shoulder, a strange kind of patient wisdom in his eyes much different from the harsh coldness of the moment prior.

"If you have power and choose not to use it to help others, you are filth," he said firmly, glaring pointedly at his homeroom teacher. Then he shook his head. "I know how to fight these creatures. You do not. Stand down."

The Hollow-like man moved while Hitsugaya's back was turned, and Midnight yelled a desperate warning despite the blood trickling from the side of her skull. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes – he _rolled his eyes_ , like the fact that an unstable human-eating maniac was about to decapitate him was _boring_ – and with an expert flip of his blade he blocked the attack. A spray of orange sparks skittered on the ground, the screech of two steel blades grinding together deafening. And then Hitsugaya kicked out and back, flipping midair to avoid another swing so fast the metal blurred, and the Hollow-like man stumbled backward several feet.

And then Hitsugaya was gone again, his body disappearing in the blink of an eye at the same time as his opponent. Orange sparks flew through the air, the two briefly reappearing just long enough for the flashing crescents of steel blades to glint around their blurring heads, but for the most part only the sounds of the battle taking place seemed to exist. All Might turned his head every which way trying to catch sight of the two combatants hacking away at each other, but they only appeared at random. It was terrifying, the speed at which these two fought, and for the first time the niggling idea that Hitsugaya might not be fully human crossed his mind. The other man had admitted to it – going as far as to call humans stupid and weak – and had been able to float on air as well as this speed Quirk. But there was only one source allowing a single person having multiple Quirks. All-For-One.

If All-For-One was involved with Hitsugaya – had created him, even – then it would explain everything. The PTSD, the mysterious death of the Nomu, the reluctance to confide in his elders…all the pieces could slide perfectly into place.

A sickening scream tore him from his thoughts, and he looked up with fear on his face, worrying for Hitsugaya's safety. Red splattered the air, blood spraying violently from a diagonal slash across the chest, a fatal wound if he'd ever seen one. The corpse plummeted slowly to the ground, crumpling in the dirt and convulsing once before going utterly still. Hitsugaya landed lightly on his feet beside the fallen body of the man he'd slain, a terrible blankness behind those eyes. The other man's shower of blood had sprayed a few crimson droplets onto his face, sword still dripping scarlet. And then something surprising happened.

Kneeling down beside the fallen corpse, Hitsugaya reached out, holding his palm open over the dead body for a moment before bowing his head once and rising again. And the man's body began to dissolve into the black dust as well, the strange particulate matter fading into the atmosphere. Hitsugaya Toushiro watched it go, like he was holding vigil for a fallen friend. Only once all the particles were gone did he flick his blade, the blood on it also evaporating into black dust. The crack in the sky closed when the last particle faded away.

The pro-heroes watched in silence as he turned, casting a critical eye over them. Then he stabbed his blade into the ground, leaving it standing upright, and raised one hand.

"If any of you were injured by one of the monsters – the humanoid included – _directly_ , please come see me," he said, and All Might had to hold his breath at the sheer calmness in the boy's voice. He'd just killed a man. He'd just murdered someone in cold blood, and was this calm about it. "Any injuries caused by them – not by flying debris or the like – leave a damaging type of residue I need to remove."

After a hesitant, long moment, All Might took a deep breath and approached. He still had eight more minutes in this form. So as Hitsugaya went to touch him, he reached out and took the boy's wrist in one massive hand, gripping the teenager firmly. He bent down slightly to look Hitsugaya in the face.

"…You can remove this 'residue' you speak of if you wish," he said, his voice stern and more than a little bit wary. "But you're going to have to come with us first, young man."

A flicker of indecision passed instantaneously across the teenager's face, his brows knitting together. Concentrated emotion took its place a moment after, mixed worry and determination melding into a masklike veneer of strength. He cocked his snowy white head to the side.

"…why?" he asked then, emerald eyes narrowing. "I saved your city, by all rights."

All Might took a deep breath.

"You killed a man, or something that looks like one," he said slowly. "And we have reason to believe this isn't your first kill either."

Hitsugaya's expression turned frosty, but he made no move to twist out of All Might's grip – not yet.

"I can't kill human beings," he snapped, his voice a low hiss. And All Might lowered both his eyebrows, grimacing now.

"Maybe not, but you do remember what those creatures are after you told the police you couldn't remember anything valuable about your past," All Might pointed out, trying to be as gentle as he could, but Hitsugaya's face still tensed, his jaw locking up. "This doesn't look good for you, young man, not unless you cooperate."

There was a moment of silence while the gears in Hitsugaya's nimble brain churned, calculating what his best moves were as quickly as he could. The boy appeared highly conflicted, and more than a little nervous. Aizawa took a few paces forward, coming to stand right behind All Might, his dark hair frizzy as usual. Hitsugaya glanced up at him, then bit his lip and closed his eyes like he was about to jump into deep water.

"…okay," he breathed. "Okay. Just…I need to see everyone injured before they get their wounds properly treated. The residue has to come off."

Aizawa nodded in understanding, then pulled at the steel bandages wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl. His expression was grim.

"Hold out your hands, please, Hitsugaya-kun," he requested softly. Wordlessly, the teenager complied, watching as his teacher bound his hands with the metal bandages. Then he was escorted inside by All Might, Aizawa, and Cementoss, and shown to the teachers' lounge. All Might put the cold sword on the table, far out of the young man's reach, and allowed Hitsugaya to treat the scratches on his bicep with some strange green glow before disappearing from the room. The other pro-heroes entered moments afterwards, and were also seen to by Hitsugaya, especially Present Mic.

But then the cat policeman that he'd met while still in the hospital walked into the room accompanied by Midnight and Nedzu. Nedzu looked simultaneously disappointed and understanding. The policeman just looked upset. The steel bandages around his wrists were replaced with a pair of heavy hexagonal handcuffs, and Cementoss carefully sculpted a small table out of cement, submerging the length of chain connecting the two cuffs in the cement and hardening it to fix the teenager's hands to the table. He struggled a little bit, surprised by the change, but quickly quieted down when Aizawa nudged his shoulder. Cementoss took his seat on Hitsugaya's other side.

"Alright, Hitsugaya-kun," Nedzu said then with a long sigh, leaning forward on the little table where Hitsugaya's wrists were shackled in place. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

 **Critiques? Comments? Overflowing praise? Condemnations for my conceit in assuming you like my writing? Put 'em in the box below!**

 **Also, I actually have given out spoilers to people who write the reviews I'm looking for. Here's a hint - constructive criticism on writing style, word choice, clarity revisions, plot holes... ;)**

 **To the anon 'star': I headcanon that Hitsugaya, psychologically speaking, is still a kid - or about a fifteen/sixteen-year-old in this story. And yeah, he's a Shinigami captain and is subsequently a badass. But let's be real here - even in real life, experienced soldiers can develop PTSD. In fact, they're more likely to develop PTSD because they've seen more horrible things. And everyone who has PTSD deals with it in a different manner. I have in fact done enough research to back-up every single one of Hitsugaya's PTSD symptoms. Paranoia, especially unnecessary paranoia, is one. Highly volatile emotions (ex. him sobbing on Aizawa) is another. Unreasonable anger is a third. Flashbacks - which can either be triggered by something in the environment or come up randomly - are a fourth, and here they play a big part in getting him to realize that he even has this issue in the first place. Avoidance is another symptom - and it is this which allowed him to go twenty years without having major disruptions beyond nightmares. He avoided thinking about the TYBW by keeping himself inhumanly busy, but now the distractions are gone and he doesn't have the familiarity of routine to ground him. The BnHA world has him off balance. In addition, it is possible for PTSD to develop years after a traumatic experience, though it is a little more uncommon.**

 **You said his reactions don't make logical sense; that there's no reason for him to be paranoid or have flashbacks in a world where he's completely safe. But that's the entire point. PTSD is a mental disorder the same way that depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and anorexia nervosa are mental disorders. Hitsugaya's reactions don't seem logical because they _aren't_ logical. ****I know this might make Hitsugaya may seem 'weak' or perhaps even a little bit OOC. That's why I'm doing it. I'm using the lens of PTSD to better understand Hitsugaya's character, and how a strong, prideful teenager like him will deal with a mental disorder such as this one. Obviously this isn't the Toushiro drawn straight out of the canon Bleach-verse - and to be entirely fair (please nobody hate me) the canon Toushiro has a very stock, very flat personality. He doesn't show much character development, nor does he really have a purpose in the show beyond eye-candy (yeah, I'm talking mature Bankai form), comic relief a la Matsumoto and other lovable idiots, and stubborn child prodigy with a ditzy older sister. This is my attempt to take those predictable, trope reactions and turn him into a complex, multidimensional character that's still showing growth. Unlike most of the Bleach manga and anime, I'm not trying to define Hitsugaya by his captaincy, power, and startling intellectual capability. Instead, I'm trying to give him a role more similar to the one Ichigo played in Bleach - one where we can actually see the teenager behind the captain, where we can see his doubts and weaknesses and the way that Seireitei has indoctrinated him into thinking that mental illness is weakness. It's _not_ weakness, for any of you lovable idiots thinking it is, by the way. :)**

 **So, in short, I can understand where you're having issues reconciling Hitsugaya's character with the version I'm writing here - it makes sense, and I can also understand why you disagree with how 'fragile' he is becoming considering his canon character. However, my hope is that when you take the base canon character, add in my headcanon teenage!Toushiro, and throw in the mental monkey-wrench that is PTSD, then something like what I'm writing will be the end result you visualize.**

 **I hope this clears up some of the choices I've made when writing his character so far, and I'm very glad you left the reviews you did - it has made it clear to me that I probably need to put in a little more exposition on how Hitsugaya deals with his PTSD (as in, how he is trying to combat it) to properly show the stubbornly-cold canon captain we all know and love for inordinately ridiculous reasons.**

 **I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and I hope your ffnet account quits acting up for you!**

 **~avtorSola**


	11. Spin Me a Tale

**A/N: Sorry, the chapter I was writing took a bit, and I always try to finish one chapter before posting an earlier one.**

 **Another A/N book at the end - y'all can ignore it if you wish. I'm glad most of you seem to enjoy the story so far!**

 **So this chapter is full of Hitsugaya as his manipulative little bastard self and Nedzu as his too-smart mouse self. In other words - this is two highly intelligent creatures back-and-forth analyzing. It might get a bit confusing. But I've tried to make it somewhat easy to follow. Let me know if I didn't succeed.**

 **Also...who wants omakes? Ideas should be put in reviews!**

* * *

Being handcuffed wasn't a new experience – _he was NOT bringing up the snow day incident again_ – but being handcuffed to a table by humans? That wasn't something he'd ever experienced before. He wasn't counting the time he'd run afoul of the gangs in Karakura, seeing as how he'd been handcuffed by the gang members and only put in a jail cell by the actual police…

Okay, maybe he needed to quit doing things to get himself arrested in the first place, but that was beside the point now. This, while not an irreparable situation, was not a pleasant one either. He was flanked by two of his teachers, hands bound to the makeshift interrogation table with just enough distance between his wrists that touching his fingertips together was uncomfortable. Nedzu and the police-cat sat across from him, Midnight standing behind them. They had a lot of questions – many of which Hitsugaya knew he could not answer. Getting out of this situation would be difficult, but hopefully not impossible. Then Nedzu put his paws together.

"I think there is one question that, at the moment, is more important than anything else," the mouse said gently. "Why did you lie about having memory loss?"

It was a good question – or at least, it would have been if there wasn't so much at stake. Seireitei had relaxed a good deal under Kyoraku-soutaicho's leadership, but divulging sensitive information, like the existence of the afterlife, to a group of living humans was entirely unacceptable. He might not be facing execution for that sin anymore, but he'd definitely lose his rank and be thrown in prison for a few decades so he could 'think about his crimes' just because Central 46 got offended. But how on earth could he explain this? Obviously working his way into their confidences by keeping his head down was a plan that had been shot to hell, but-

Wait. Maybe if he…Hitsugaya took a deep breath, flexing his hands as far as he could. Then he looked up, allowing the captain beneath the child's mask he'd been wearing to fully surface. Nedzu didn't seem surprised by the sudden cloak of authority filling the room, the projection of absolute power apparently already accounted for by the small mouse-man. The others were all visibly surprised, however. But here he was, finally being honest with them, and he was pretty sure that Nedzu was already aware that he'd dropped any pretenses just with that shift in demeanor.

If he couldn't lie his way out of this, he'd just tell them little bits of the truth and let them assume the rest.

"Amnesia is a particularly useful thing to claim when one is hiding something," he said plainly, startling Aizawa, Midnight and Cementoss with his blunt honesty. "And in this case, it was much easier than creating a fabricated tale that would inevitably have holes poked through it."

Nedzu nodded, sipping on a cup of hot tea with some measure of mixed admiration and upset, but he appeared perfectly calm. His ability to keep up with Hitsugaya's leaps of logic was refreshing – he would usually have to explain this sort of thing to his subordinates in detail.

"I suspected as much," he said, setting the cup down on a tiny paper napkin. "You're a clever boy, from what I can tell. Tell me, what exactly about your past were you hiding? You already are nonexistent according to the Japanese Ministry – why is that?"

Hitsugaya shrugged, only slightly apologetic. Here was where the assumption-making began.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that information," he said firmly, watching as Nedzu's beady black eyes fixed firmly on his face. The teachers' lounge was silent for a moment, and then Midnight raised an eyebrow.

"…Hitsugaya, what is that supposed to mean?" she asked slowly. Toushiro tugged uncomfortably on his hands and rolled his eyes with a hint of exasperation.

"Ask Cementoss – he's the one who teaches Japanese Literature. I'm sure he can explain the definitions," he snapped sarcastically, indulging his childish, condescending side for a brief moment. Then he saw the flash of disconcerted upset on the woman's face and grudgingly sighed before giving an actual answer. "It means precisely what you think it means. I can't tell you why I don't exist on paper, and I can't tell you what it is that I'm hiding. Try again."

That answer appeared to be exactly as satisfying as he expected it to be, and as he watched the policecat's expression turn grim with annoyance, he let out a soft breath. The typical good cop/bad cop routine wasn't going to work on him, especially considering how long he'd been playing that game. The Tenth Division was in charge of internal investigation, and he'd dirtied his hands in interrogations far less kind than this one, like the time he'd be working on a case which ended in a noble's execution for a string of nasty serial murders. Over the years, his skills at extracting information had grown until they were only rivaled by the tactics of the Onmitsukido and Kyoraku-soutaicho.

Not that these living souls knew that, though.

So when Nedzu waved a paw signaling for the policeman to back off, thus disrupting the routine Hitsugaya was expecting as a simple matter of course, he raised an eyebrow in surprise and immediately started to recalculate his strategy. He narrowed his eyes, watching Nedzu carefully, and the mouse noticed this scrutiny with a somewhat pleased smile.

"Can we ask what you _are_ at liberty to discuss, Hitsugaya-kun?" he asked nonchalantly. "Or would you face consequences for even divulging that much?"

It clicked. Nedzu already had figured out what he had been trying to do, and was giving him an easy out. He had been planning on carefully wording his answers to the questions he would inevitably face until the pro-heroes realized that he was giving them bits and pieces of the answers they wanted, but Nedzu was entirely skipping that step. He couldn't stop an appreciative smirk.

"I won't quite answer that one either, Nedzu-san," he replied, "Try something…a little more specific."

The mouse smiled as well, folding his hands on the table. The pros watched the exchange taking place in shock, starting to realize the implication of Hitsugaya's subtle means of cooperation.

"Ah, I see, can't versus won't. So that is a risk you're not willing to take versus…a legal contract of some kind, binding your tongue?" Nedzu noticed the change in syntax effortlessly, and Hitsugaya's smirk cracked into an actual grin.

"I can neither confirm nor deny any conclusions you might reach, you understand," he said with a hint of amusement. Nedzu nodded simply, tipping his head to the side.

"I understand that you're trying to cooperate with us despite you being legally unable to do so in some regard," Nedzu's tone was calm but considerably relieved. "So, you would face legal consequences – not retaliation from villains – for divulging your secrets, correct?"

Ah, that one was easy. Hitsugaya nodded with a sigh.

"Something like that, for certain things," he said, being purposefully vague. Nedzu appeared to understand, however.

"If you cannot tell us about your past, can you tell us about the incident which just occurred outside? What were the creatures we were attacked by?" Nedzu's expression was at once curious and serious. Hitsugaya steeled himself for the half-truths he would have to tell.

"…the creatures are called Hollows," he said carefully. "They are a species which preys primarily upon humans, distinguishable by a hole which is typically bored through the chest cavity, though it has been known to manifest elsewhere on their bodies."

He felt Aizawa and Cementoss breathe sighs of relief when he said that, obviously not expecting him to be so forthcoming. And to be frank, he was toeing a very dangerous line, so even he was nervous. But as long as he managed to convince the pros to leave the Hollow problem to him, and kept the existence of the afterlife secret, it would be fine to tell them little tidbits about the Hollows.

Hopefully, Kyoraku would agree if he _ever_ got back to Seireitei. After killing the piece of shit responsible for destroying the humans' souls in Hosu, that was.

"And the man which you killed – he had a hole through his body as well," Nedzu prompted. Hitsugaya took a deep breath.

"He was also a Hollow, but a more advanced kind. Hollows with human appearances…are hybrids, for a lack of a better term, and they are more dangerous because of it. Their intelligence is above that of an average Hollow, and their self-control is greater," he explained carefully. "There are non-hybrid Hollows with high intelligence and self-control, of course – they are evolved to hunt humans – but this hybrid branch has the added bonus of better camouflage among a group of people."

This information appeared to surprise everyone present in the room, and before Nedzu could say anything, Midnight spoke up, her ocean eyes uncannily like Unohana's in both color and the simmering danger present there.

"That guy wasn't human?" she asked. Hitsugaya leveled a calm, cool glare at her.

"I cannot kill human beings without cause," he said coldly, narrowing his eyes in warning. "And the list of crimes which would cause me to have the authority to take a human life is both very short and very specific. If that Hollow had been human, I could not have slain him, even if he had slaughtered the entire school."

Nedzu appeared to catch the underlying current he'd put into his frost-tinged words, and the mouse relaxed then, but only slightly, a tinge of confusion passing briefly across his face.

"That isn't just a personal rule you're following, is it?" the mouse observed shrewdly, "I'll hazard a guess that's also law whichever…organization you're working for."

Hitsugaya smirked again.

"Organization is a poor choice in words," he said lightly, purposefully not acknowledging the first part of Nedzu's sentence, a factor which he knew the highly intelligent mouse would pick up on. "But acceptable for the moment."

Nedzu nodded, taking that statement at face value.

"How do you know so much about these monsters – the Hollows?" he asked, and Hitsugaya just shrugged his shoulders and raised an eyebrow.

"I can't answer that."

The policeman and the pro-heroes obviously understood where he was going with that, and Nedzu leaned forward in anticipation.

"Is there any way you could ask this 'organization' for permission to give us details on the Hollows, so we can distribute that among the pro-hero agencies-"

"Out of the question," Hitsugaya cut the mouse off flatly. "You lack the training and skill set needed to kill Hollows, and I'm not about to agree to distribute top secret information because you're asking nicely. I've already told you things I could get in trouble for. Letting you try to figure out ways to combat them might get me thrown in prison for the rest of my life."

There was dead silence for a moment, the pros obviously taken aback by his vehemence and the severity of the punishment that he could face. Hitsugaya leveled a direct glare at Nedzu.

"Leave the Hollows to me," he said stonily, displaying mild hostility for the first time since he'd entered the room. "This is non-negotiable."

The policeman-cat leaned forward, anger on his whiskered, furry face, and he slammed a fist down on the table.

"You are risking the lives of-"

"You don't have even the faintest idea of what you're talking about, and yet you think you know more about the situation than I do," Hitsugaya cut him off coldly, his reiatsu stirring just briefly, enough to give him the distinct chill of a smoldering captain. "I am not withholding this information for no reason. You lack the capability to kill those beasts. If I gave you more data on their behaviors and attack patterns, you would try to hunt them down, and you'd only get yourselves killed and slowly eaten, and not necessarily in that order, if you catch my drift. I will only say it one more time. Leave the Hollows to me. If anything, you should report all Hollows sightings to me, but I'll probably be alerted of their presence before you are."

The policecat stewed angrily, unnerved by Hitsugaya's chilly command, then slammed his hand on the table again.

"You're _fifteen_. You have absolutely _no place_ telling adults and professional fighters what to do," he said furiously, obviously unwilling to let the matter rest despite Nedzu's clearly-persuadable demeanor, and Hitsugaya finally lost his temper. He leveled a terrifying glare on the cat-Quirk man, and let his reiatsu out just enough to turn the atmosphere of the room thick and soupy, so that it would be hard for the humans to breathe. Then he stood, wrists still chained to the table, and glared down at the cat-man with death in his eyes, bringing the aura of his race to full prominence.

"I," he stated slowly, his voice deliberately patient, a cruel wrath bubbling beneath the icy veneer. "have more battle experience than the lot of you _combined_. It was not your precious adults who managed to kill those creatures. I did that – and _I_ didn't get myself hurt in the process. You were there, when I woke up in the hospital. You know about the scars I have."

Hitsugaya bared his teeth with a snarl. It was getting harder and harder to repress his full strength as his anger started to best him. ( _thank god for the limiters, honestly, otherwise he probably would have knocked them all out by now)_

"I don't have scars because I let adults and professional fighters dictate my actions, you know," he hissed, "I earned these scars through battle. And if you think that you can tell me to stand down because you know best in this precious little bubble of a 'safe world' you have, you are _wrong._ Last time I checked, experience was what mattered when you're trying not to get yourself and others killed. So keep your ignorant mouth shut."

The policeman tried to stand as well, but the increased pressure in the room due to Hitsugaya's leaking reiatsu combined with the frightening glare he was giving were enough to keep the cat-man in his seat. Then, after a moment of standing there, Hitsugaya slowly sat back down and reined in the wisp of reiatsu he had released. The pros stared at him in no little shock, his sudden vehemence and usage of intimidation tactics rather unexpected and more than a little worrying. Nedzu placed a paw on Hitsugaya's hand, a tentative gesture.

"…You say we lack the capability to kill the Hollows. Is there a way we can gain this capability?" he asked, his voice low and mild. Hitsugaya took a deep breath and tried to rein in his temper. The policeman had meant well, he knew, and he shouldn't be getting so furious over it.

"No, there is not," he replied, a note of finality in his voice. "Not legally, anyhow. Passing on the knowledge of how to kill Hollows is a crime which has the unfortunate precedent of those who are convicted of this end up getting the death penalty."

The pros looked away with a hint of mixed disgust and horror, and Hitsugaya knew then that he had successfully managed to close that conversation. Thank god for Kuchiki's botched execution, otherwise that statement would have been entirely false. But then, slowly, Cementoss laid a hand on his shoulder, the blocky face twisted into a certain kind of hesitancy.

"…you said earlier that you cannot kill human beings without cause," he began gradually, tipping his square head down so he could look the boy sitting beside him in the eyes. "But you were seen in Hosu with your blade drawn, near the site of where a villain was found, slain by a technique which would remarkably simple for you to pull off considering the speed lent by your Quirk."

Hitsugaya blinked and cocked his head to the side, a silent question on his face. His eyes narrowed in thought, and then he let out an ugly, angry laugh, as if realizing what the stoneworker was talking about.

"Oh," he said. Then he cast his gaze down at the table, clenching his fists tightly. Pity and fury warred on his face. "That poor creature."

The admission implicit in his tone had the teachers all startled, and he seemed to realize their shock. He laughed again, the sound short and tight, and shook his head with a hint of grief on his face.

"That poor thing wasn't human," he said softly. "It probably was once, maybe a nice man or woman with children and a family. But not anymore. I don't…I don't know what was done to the person it once was, but whatever terrible evil he or she suffered…that damage was irreparable."

Nedzu frowned at that, but he merely sighed and took another sip of his tea, which had probably long gone cold by this point. The mouse looked down into the ceramic mug as if trying to read the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup.

"…So you killed them," he said heavily. Hitsugaya felt his throat close up.

"Nobody should have to live like that," he forced the words out, raspy and broken. "Nothing should have to live like that, in pain and suffering because someone else has decided you're better off as an…an experiment. So…so I ended it for them. Because anything is better than that."

He knew it didn't escape anyone that he was shaking, but try as he might he couldn't seem to quell the anguish in his voice, clogging his chest and making breathing impossible. Even the mere thought of those creatures being once human, destroyed by a mad scientist for their own selfish reasons, was enough to make fear settle like lead into the pit of his stomach. Nausea swam through his abdomen in waves, and he took a moment to slow his breathing, trying to blank out the memories threatening to surge forward and overtake him.

The mousy principal gazed at him compassionately, empathy a rare sight in his beady black eyes.

"…their experiences reminded you of something you once went through," the mouse stated, obviously certain of his deduction. And Hitsugaya took a deep breath, knowing that this next phrase would give the pros and police everything they needed to understand – even if it was slightly a lie.

"…I can't answer that."

The effect was immediate, and Nedzu's gaze softened immediately. The policecat made a note of something in the little book he had, trying to hide the shame on his face from his outburst earlier.

Hitsugaya was well aware what type of conclusion that his particular word choice for his answer would enable Nedzu to find, and it was exactly what he needed right now. By saying he couldn't answer the question, he was implying that the experimentation the poor creatures had undergone reminded him of his own, similar experience, and that whatever suffering he'd gone through was related to the 'organization' which the pros had deduced he was part of. And hopefully, they would then connect his ability to kill Hollows with that experimentation.

It was a story doused in just enough truth to make it believable.

Aizawa spoke up then, the first time he'd said anything since they'd escorted Hitsugaya into the room with his hands tied in front of him like a common criminal. He looked…hollow. As if he'd already put the pieces of Hitsugaya's non-answers together enough to see the horrors his student had endured.

"…I suppose you aren't faking your PTSD to gain sympathy, then?" the exhausted-looking man asked rhetorically, his voice unusually toneless, and Hitsugaya could see his teacher's knuckles whitening out of the corner of his eye. The by-now-familiar scaly itch began to creep down his back, ghosting uncomfortably over the base of his spine and pulling on his spinal column, the strange little muscle triggered by his tension and panicked avoidance of the memories of his terrifying stint as Kurotsuchi's pet. He swallowed hard, suddenly unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"…no," he forced the words out, the painful breaking of his pride almost physically sickening him. His hands trembled, and disgusted by his own weakness, he curled his fingers into fists. "No, I…I…"

He couldn't speak, but it seemed that Aizawa understood, as did the policecat, Nedzu, and the other two pros in the room with him. They gave him a moment to regain his tongue, and he felt Aizawa's hand settle on his shoulder, holding steady for him while he fought his own incredulous disbelief while facing his own reality. Finally, he gathered the resolve and courage he needed to at least get a sentence out.

"I can't pretend something like that," he gasped out. "Not…God, you have no idea how- I can't talk about this."

He would have buried his head in his hands, but they were shackled to a concrete table and he didn't want to have to explain that he wasn't exactly human either when he broke the stone. Burying his face in Aizawa's dark shirt worked equally well anyhow, and there was a moment of startled quiet before the man's arms settled fully around his shoulders, giving him a gentle hug.

"You didn't see anything," he choked out. Aizawa's sigh could be felt, the movement of his chest especially noticeable to Hitsugaya, and he felt the man's calloused fingers weave through his white hair, tousling the soft strands.

"I didn't realize there was something to see, Hitsugaya-kun," the man replied calmly. Then he felt Aizawa turn slightly towards Nedzu and the police officer siting subdued there, still carefully keeping his arms wrapped around his student. "I think…I think we got what we needed."

There was a brief lull, and then the police officer sighed, and there was a sound like mud sucking on the bottom of a shoe. Hitsugaya's hands fell, the table suddenly nonexistent beneath them, and before he quite knew what was happening, he felt the cuffs pop off his wrists, freeing his hands. He tucked his hands into his lap, still leaning into Aizawa's shirt and trying to hold back the trembling brought on by the near-brush with his memories. Aizawa didn't seem to mind, still stroking his white hair quietly.

"We did," the cat-policeman said quietly. "That counts as a full confession, and under the circumstances coupled with his recent actions protecting you all, I'm confident that we can get his case through juvenile court with him receiving only a few months of house arrest with supervised outings and some required therapy."

Nedzu let out a relieved sigh, as did Cementoss and Midnight, and Hitsugaya felt the couch he was sitting on rise as Cementoss stood up. Then Nedzu spoke again, his voice kind.

"Thank you for being honest with us, Hitsugaya-kun," he said gently, then paused for a moment before continuing with a hint of forced cheer. "And just so you know, I happen to have gone through an experience rather similar to experimentation in the past, so if you ever want to talk to me, you are more than welcome in my office at any time."

The news was like a rinse of cold water over the burning pain in his chest, and Hitsugaya carefully pulled back until he was looking at Nedzu, staring in incredulity. He wasn't…the only one to have suffered this? Matsumoto, Muguruma, and Otorobashi didn't remember Kurotsuchi's laboratory the same way he did, but the fact that someone else may have gone through some similar – and come out the other side in one piece – was something he'd never expected. Aizawa kept a steadying arm around his shoulders as he drew back, and while he was disgusted by his own weakness he had to admit that the quiet support was helping.

"…Thank you, Nedzu-sensei," he said quietly. The mouse gave him a kind smile, then turned a beady gaze on his teacher.

"Aizawa, feel free to use the teachers' lounge as long as you need."

Aizawa nodded a touch gratefully and watched as the group left the room. Then he turned back to Hitsugaya, sitting silently beside the young man as the teenager buried his head in his hands. Toushiro couldn't stop the breathy sigh that escaped him, a mix of relief that his story had passed the test and that he had successfully managed to pull himself away from the horrors of his past. Aizawa didn't say anything to him, only sat quietly and waited for him to collect himself. Finally, he lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes, standing up and pulling away from the man.

"Thank you, Aizawa-sensei," he told the dark-haired man. Aizawa just sighed and stood up.

"I already told you I didn't see anything, kid," he replied, and Hitsugaya's lips quirked in appreciation for the man's continued adherence to the charade. "But you're welcome."

* * *

 **Outstanding reviews may receive spoilers!**

 **Reply to the anon 'star': The humans here have reiatsu the same way Keigo and Tatsuki do - they can't actually use it in battle. And normal humans in the Bleach-verse _do_ have reiatsu of some kind, otherwise the Hollows wouldn't go for them, just not enough for them to actually do anything with. And as you pointed out earlier, shinigami fighting is a battle between reiatsu. So yeah, the Hollows are getting knocked back, but they're not getting hurt because there isn't any reiatsu behind those attacks. And All Might is actually doing damage because of his mutated reiatsu, but because One-For-All's power is waning it's not doing very much. As for Midnight, that's simple strategy. She can't control the dispersal patterns of her sleeping gas, and she'd risk knocking out the other pros if she used it.**

 **As for the pros 'threatening' Hitsugaya - they think he's a fifteen-year-old boy who had just voluntarily placed himself in harm's way again to protect them. And had killed a semi-human being to do so. And had only lied to them because he's a traumatized lil' muffin. They're wary of him, yes, but they're also under the impression that he is at least somewhat like a normal teenager. And Hitsugaya, for his part, wants to keep that appearance up as much as he can.**

 **And yeah, the Arrancar was an OC. But he's dead now :/**


	12. Manifestation

**A/N: And here it is! Hitsugaya finally kicking some serious butt! (sort of) Sorry for this being so late - I post only when I'm three chapters ahead writing-wise.**

 **On another note. Sass ahead. Skip if you JUST WANT TO READ THE STORY SOLA, QUIT WRITING A/N BOOKS.**

 **To the individual 'Nox Deus'. Thank you for flaming my story. It was both a helpful and an extremely educated comment, calling a character with PTSD a "weak scared 'fagot'." Because of this extremely helpful and kind comment, I am publically posting my reply to your review.**

 **A) PTSD doesn't make you weak or a 'fagot.' It is a psychological condition that can affect even seasoned soldiers, and what makes you truly weak is giving up. That's the last thing Hitsugaya would ever do - and you won't see him do it here.**  
 **B) He has PTSD because it's basic psychology for people to be affected by traumatic experiences. It appalls me that people are offended when characters that have survived horrific injuries, wars, mindfuckery, or experimentation show any form of psychological repercussions.**  
 **C) If you're going to insult my interpretation of a character, learn how to at least spell "faggot" correctly.**  
 **D) If you don't like my story, leave.**

 **~avtorSola**

 **Now, to all of my lovely readers. If you don't agree with my interpretation of a character - I UNDERSTAND. That is perfectly normal. In fact, I would welcome a respectful dialogue about this sort of thing - feel free to leave a review disagreeing with my interpretation of Hitsugaya! But insulting a character that I am writing as struggling with a mental disorder by calling them a weak faggot? Quit compensating for your lack of an actual spine. I dare you to go find any soldier suffering from PTSD and say this to their face. Go tell someone traumatized by seeing people blown apart, shot in the head, die in a pool of their own blood, etc - go tell them they're a 'weak scared faggot.' _I fucking DARE you._**

 **Alright, rant over. Time for me to address something else.**

 **I've gotten a few reviews asking me not to make the tentative pairing for the story a slash/yaoi/homosexual pairing. Rest assured, dear reviewers, I can understand that some of you can't see Hitsugaya as gay. That's pretty chill with me. HOWEVER, I'm going to be upfront with everyone. I pair people up regardless of gender. GirlxGirl stuff and BoyxBoy stuff are both options I have considered - and will continue to consider. If it fits with the storyline and the characters have chemistry, I'm going to put it in. And Hitsugaya might not even be one of the characters in the pairing. So my apologies to those of you that are trying to influence my pairings - I don't really let readers do that. Guesses are fine though.** **And maybe it's just me being socially inept because I'm asexual and therefore don't really understand the whole 'sexual tension' thing, but at the moment Hitsugaya and Midoriya are forming a tentative friendship, if anything. Why are some of you reading into it so much? Concrete hints about the pairing won't come into play until the characters are at least sixteen/seventeen (save Hitsugaya, since he's 200+ but fifteen/sixteen psychologically/physically here...)**

 **Anyway, bookwriting over 0_0' - On with the story!**

* * *

Since the second attack by the strange monsters, the teachers had all been much less quiet when it came to speaking with Hitsugaya, and he seemed to be responding to their attempts at interaction with greater frequency. He and Aizawa seemed to have magically grown close, and Izuku sometimes spotted them in the hallways, just standing and talking in soft voices whenever it had been clear that Hitsugaya had been having a hard time staying focused on the present in class. Part of him was happy that the quiet genius was seeking someone out whenever his PTSD started to creep up on him, but the other part of him was worried.

Most of the school had seen the pro-heroes take on the strange monsters, but that had been all they'd seen before the general education staff hurried everyone into interior rooms, away from windows where the monsters could break through. However, once the all-clear had been given, and the students had been released to go home for the day, Izuku had seen Hitsugaya walking back into the school. His hands had been bound, and he'd been flanked by Cementoss and Aizawa, his sword in All Might's hands.

Obviously, whatever had happened that day had worked out in Hitsugaya's favor, but Izuku couldn't help but worry, especially considering what he'd seen of Hitsugaya (or his imposter) in Hosu. It was a ridiculous worry – Aizawa knew about what he'd seen, after all – but it was still a factor of Hitsugaya's mysterious background that made him a little bit wary of his newest classmate. Of course, he couldn't worry about it for long, and that made things a little bit easier. Final exams were looming over everyone, and getting good grades took priority.

When the time came, the written exams were grueling, but thanks to the studying that Izuku had done at home, poring over his notes and textbooks for hours on end, he felt confident in his final score. He turned in his last paper with a smile and a relieved sigh, already preparing for the next day, when the real challenge would begin. Or, what would have been a 'real challenge' if the entrance exam hadn't consisted of the exact same test.

The practical exam.

The entire class arrived early that morning, and were taken immediately to change into their hero costumes – or their gym uniform, as Hitsugaya still didn't have a hero costume due to the apparent complexity of his Quirk. Then they were shuttled out to the training grounds, where a group of teachers stood, waiting for them. It was an ominous sign. Why would so many teachers be needed for a test that had previously not needed such intense supervision?

Nedzu waved as they approached, the scar over his eye stretching oddly as he smiled.

"Ah, you're all right on time, good!" he said cheerfully. "So, we've decided to mix things up a little bit, and we've changed the format of the practical exam this year. You'll all be forming teams of two, with one exception, and taking on one of the pro-heroes here, though they will be handicapped. Your objective is either to capture the hero using this pair of handcuffs-"

Nedzu held up a pair of hexagonal handcuffs, showing them to the class, and somewhere off to his left he heard a snort. Izuku glanced over to see Hitsugaya, standing unusually close to the group, a strange little smirk of amusement on his pale golden face. But then Nedzu continued speaking.

"-or have one person on your team escape through the exit gate. You have thirty minutes to complete this objective. Now, I'll go ahead and tell you all your pairings and the order you'll be competing in."

First up was Kirishima and Satou against Cementoss. Then, Asu- er, Tsuyu-chan and Tokoyami would be fighting Ectoplasm. After them, Iida and Ojiro were paired together against Power Loader, and following that match would be the rather interesting (and unfortunate) pairing of Yaoyorozu and Todoroki against Aizawa himself. After that would be Uraraka's turn, and she and Aoyama would be up against Thirteen. Then, Ashido and Kaminari would be pitted against Nedzu – oh _no_ , that was going to end badly unless one of those two had learned how to strategize properly – and they'd be followed by a match between Present Mic, Jirou and Kouda. After that, Hagakure and Shoji would be up against Snipe, followed by a match with Sero and Mineta facing off against Midnight.

Izuku felt a chill pulse down his spine, and he hesitantly looked over the nine teachers standing in front of them. Who was he facing off against? And…was he partnering with Bakugo, Hitsugaya, or being left as the exception? Oh god, his options were Bakugo, Hitsugaya, or being alone. He couldn't decide which was worse. And then All Might and Endeavor – _how did they get Endeavor to agree to participate in this?!_ – appeared from around the corner, and he felt himself pale. Things had just gotten much worse.

"The tenth match-up will be Bakugo and Midoriya versus All Might," Nedzu said cheerfully. "And Hitsugaya-kun, you will be up against Endeavor by yourself."

Izuku turned to stare at Bakugo in shock, and was taken aback to see that Bakugo was looking at him in that same incredulous manner. But as soon as they made eye contact, some kind of spiteful anger flared across the blonde teenager's face and he looked away, scowling. Izuku bit his lower lip, suddenly feeling that he was doomed. He had the sinking sensation that Bakugo wouldn't even want to try and attempt any sort of teamwork, and there was no way they'd be able to escape All Might unless they pooled their strength.

Hitsugaya took a step forward then, the warm sunlight casting the lean, sinewy muscle of his arms and shoulders into slight shadow while making the warm gold undertones of his skin glow. He seemed very calm today, and the small distance he'd placed between himself and the rest of the class was probably the closest he'd ever come to standing shoulder to shoulder with them. Nedzu gave the white-haired teenager an unusually serious look as he approached.

"Is something the matter, Hitsugaya-kun?" he asked patiently. Hitsugaya shrugged nonchalantly and cocked an eyebrow.

"Just wanted to let you know that you're not being very subtle," he said simply. "And if you want a better picture of my skill, I wouldn't give Endeavor-san the handicap."

The statement was neutral, Hitsugaya's tone startlingly even, but the words that came out of his mouth were incredible in nothing more than their meaning. It took Izuku a second to grasp the full importance of what the white-haired teenager was saying, but when he did he whirled around to stare at the mysterious boy in shock. He wasn't the only one, either. Todoroki – Shouto _and_ Enji – were also staring soundlessly at Hitsugaya, and as he gaped, Yaoyorozu took a hesitant, stunned step towards the boy who had been threatening to upset her spot at the top of the class.

"…Hitsugaya-san, Endeavor is the second-highest ranked hero…" her voice trailed off as Hitsugaya glanced over his shoulder to meet her gaze. That strange little smirk of amusement was back, but he said nothing as he turned away. Nedzu was silent for several moments, and in this interim time Hitsugaya ducked under the leather strap holding his sword to his back so he could hold the sheathed weapon in his hands. The mousy principal just looked at him.

"You have enough control?" he said finally. Hitsugaya's lips quirked on one side, a sudden, inexplicable wave of confidence bordering on arrogance rolling off him.

"…I have always had control of my blade," he replied, his tone soft. And then Nedzu sighed, pulling a keyring from his back pocket. To Izuku's utter shock, the principal then proceeded to unlock the steel cuffs from the weapon's hilt and sheath. Endeavor watched with narrowed eyes, then finally spoke.

"I was briefed on you before coming here, Hitsugaya Toushiro," he said ominously. "You should not think I cannot fully draw out the power of your strange Quirk, or that your Quirk has no counter."

Hitsugaya stiffened then, hands tightening on his sheathed sword, and he had to fight to take a deep, calming breath, his face reddening as if he was trying not to scratch an itch. He nodded tightly, then fell back into place, a little closer to the group than last time. Then they all scattered, moving to their respective arenas where their battles would happen.

Izuku walked alongside Bakugo, trying his best to engage the other boy in strategic discussion about their plan of action, but the blonde was having none of it. And this pattern continued throughout the planning period they had before their match was due to start. It was even worse during the match itself – the bruise on Izuku's face wouldn't be fading anytime soon. But somehow Katsuki had come around.

Maybe it had been what he'd said about how Bakugo had promised to never lose and that he should just accept others' strength so that he could achieve that goal. Or maybe it had been something All Might had said. Or maybe Katsuki had finally learned to see through that mask of self-assured blindness and had realized that the Quirkless loser he used to torment was quickly figuring out how to stand on his own. But whatever the cause, they had ended up working together to end up escaping the arena. Katsuki had even lent Izuku one of his exploding gauntlets.

Izuku had ended up carrying Katsuki away from the broken street – and had punched All Might in the face to safely get them out of there. He still wasn't fully calm from the adrenaline spike, but he'd felt well enough after Recovery Girl had healed him that he'd been allowed to stand and watch the other fights progressing in the monitoring room. Most of them had finished up by now, considering that his test had been the second-to-last to start, but a notable exception was Ashido and Kaminari's exam. Both of them were still running around the arena like chickens with their heads cut off while Nedzu cackled from his position behind the controls of a wrecking ball. But besides them, the only other exam still ongoing was Hitsugaya's.

Or, at least, it should still be ongoing. Hitsugaya's exam had started ten minutes after he and Bakugo had been let into their own arena to face off against All Might, so he should only be about five minutes into his exam at this point. However, the cameras had mostly cut out. The pitchy whine of fuzz and disjointed voices crackled through the screens, pixelated black and white dots buzzing the viewing window into grey every other second or so. Izuku's eyebrows furrowed.

"…What's going on with the cameras watching Hitsugaya-san's match?" he asked. Recovery Girl shook her head, still typing on the keyboard.

"I don't know, Midoriya-kun. The signal isn't clearing up, and Endeavor-san's earpiece also seems to be malfunctioning."

The lack of basic communication was mildly worrying, but then Izuku's eyes widened in shock, completely ignoring the fact that Ashido and Kaminari had just run out of time to find their way to the exit.

"Aren't the earpieces and the video coming through different radio frequencies?" he asked anxiously. "What if the signal is being jammed?"

Recovery Girl glanced at him with a hint of that same anxiety on her old face, but she shook her head.

"It's rather unlikely, considering that only the signals coming from Hitsugaya-kun and Endeavor-san's immediate area are malfunctioning. A jamming signal would be extremely difficult to keep this localized," she said after a moment, absently greeting a few of the other pro-heroes and the students as they shuffled curiously into the monitoring room. Almost immediately, Aizawa's gaze focused on the screen which should have been showing Hitsugaya's match. His jaw noticeably tightened.

"…He did say he knew why we asked Endeavor to come in, and why his match is the only solo one," Aizawa said after a moment. Recovery Girl nodded tightly, but sighed with some resignation.

"It's too localized to be a jamming signal, Aizawa-kun," she chided gently. "It's unfortunate but-"

The screen crackled loudly, sparks flashing across the fuzzy static of the visuals of Hitsugaya's exam. Everyone stared at it as time ticked down, and as more of the pros and the student-duos they'd fought began to slip into the room – Nedzu, Kaminari, and Ashido being the last group to enter around the seventeen-minute mark – the sound gradually began to start clearing up. And finally, Endeavor's voice came through in perfect, panicked clarity.

 _~"Recovery Girl- son of a- Recovery Girl! Can you hear me?! Answer, dammit, this is an emergency!"~_

Suddenly, the awful grinding of breaking stone echoed over the speakers, and Endeavor yelled something unintelligible. Recovery Girl instantly grabbed the microphone, still watching the fuzzy screen, and pressed a button.

"Endeavor-san, what's wrong?" she said hurriedly. "This is the first time I've been able to hear you since the two-minute mark, and we still don't have visual."

There was some breathless gasping for a moment before the Pro-hero could answer, and a low, nearly-inhuman growling that filled the speakers and sent chills down everyone's spines.

 _~"The kid has gone berserk, and if I don't get backup I'm not sure I'll make it out of this in one piece!"~_ he snapped, his voice quick and hurried, like he was racing against time. ~ _"You incompetent fools told me he has a speed Quirk!"~_

Aizawa ran forward at that, snatching the microphone from Recovery Girl.

"He _does_ have a speed Quirk, or at least something very similar to a speed Quirk," Aizawa retorted, dawning realization on his face. At the back of the room, All Might began to pale. "I've seen him use it."

There was a snort of derision and another thunderous crash, followed by a low curse from Endeavor.

 _~"Then explain this,"~_ he hissed, a note of hysteria entering his voice. And suddenly, the screen displaying static and pixelated nothing began to clear up, until the startling picture was fully visible. Endeavor was obviously holding the malfunctioning camera, judging by the way it shook, but the image was steady enough to decipher.

Izuku felt the breath leave his lungs. Hitsugaya had been in one of the city-block training grounds. And it had been reduced to rubble. Massive spires of crystalline ice shot through entire buildings, cutting them in half, and in a few places there were the flickering remnants of flame, dancing over the broken concrete and twisted steel. And in the center of all the destruction stood a blank-faced Hitsugaya, his gym uniform shredded in places, his gaze terrifyingly empty. He was shaking violently, mouthing breathless words too fast for Izuku to make out what he was saying.

But the most startling part of it all was that every inch of his exposed skin save his face was covered in silver-blue scales. His fingers now ended with sharp white claws, and the unseeing emerald of his eyes was cut in half by a slitted, predatory pupil. Blood dripped down his chin, trickling from between his lips and drawing momentary attention to the fact that he had a pair of small, curved fangs.

He'd manifested a second Quirk.

 _What?!_

Aizawa took a deep breath to steady himself and leaned forward, knuckles whitening on the control board.

"Endeavor, has he been responding to anything you say or do at all?" he asked, his voice strained. There was a pained cough from the other side of the microphone.

 _~"He attacks every time I try to melt this ice-breath of his,"~_ the other man grunted. ~ _"But otherwise he's been murmuring nonsense the whole time."~_

Aizawa cursed under his breath.

"He's probably having a flashback – and something has made it violent," the teacher said, shrugging his eye protection on. "We'll have to sedate him. Can you keep him occupied until we arrive, or are you hurt?"

There was another cough.

 _~"I can keep him occupied, but not for much longer. The little brat got me good, early on in this fight when he was still in control of himself. Hurry up,"~_ Endeavor hissed. There was the sudden crackle of flame in the background, and as Class 1-A watched numbly, Hitsugaya's eyes snapped onto the man holding the camera. And suddenly the white-haired teenager screamed, clutching at his chest, and his eyes flashed into orbs of bloodthirsty scarlet.

And with the telltale sound of tearing fabric, a pair of wide silvery wings sprouted from between his shoulder blades, followed almost immediately by a long, scaly tail tipped with a crescent-moon shaped barb. The delicate wings stirred, bone and pale silver-blue membrane creaking as Hitsugaya's weight shifted. The scales on either side of his neck began to glow blue, the glow creeping up to illuminate the scales rimming his face, and he opened his bloodied mouth to reveal the bluish glow at the back of his throat. The slitted green of his eyes broke back through the red film then, still blank but less terrifying, and less like those of a man-eating beast.

And then a stream of icy blue flame surged from between Hitsugaya's lips, ice crackling instantly over everything the ice-fire cut through, and with a keening howl, the ice shot into another tall spire, piercing a concrete skyscraper in the side and causing it to tumble down. The camera jumped horribly, swirling around as Endeavor ran from the encroaching ice, his fire sizzling out on the icy patches he touched.

Izuku broke away from the strangely mesmerizing images of Hitsugaya's second Quirk running wild and looked back only to see that all the pro-heroes had gone except for Recovery Girl. Todoroki took a step forward, transfixed by Hitsugaya's ability to breathe ice, and clenched his fists in something like worry as he heard his father' s attempts to defend and distract the rampaging teenager mix slowly with the grunts of pain and soreness.

"…what _is_ Hitsugaya-san?" he whispered. Nobody quite knew how to answer that. Izuku just put a hand on Todoroki's shoulder and squeezed lightly, trying to be compassionate, but soon returned to staring at the screen alongside most of his fellow classmates.

Another few blasts of ice later, Endeavor seemed to be done playing around, and he released a huge torrent of flame to melt an incoming attack. But the sight of the massive pillar of fire seemed to trigger something in Hitsugaya, who cried out again and suddenly collapsed to the pavement, convulsing sharply. He writhed, screaming for a brief moment as the sight of the intense flames dragged him further down into the hallucinated memories playing in front of his eyes. And then his body suddenly slackened, going utterly limp save a few shuddering tremors, and tendril of ghostly white light leaked from his chest.

Izuku stared as the wisp of white light quivered into the atmosphere, reminded of Tokoyami's Dark Shadow for a moment. But then the wisp of white exploded, sending powerful claws smashing into the pavement and cracking the stone, a towering, sinuous body covered in silver-blue scales materializing out of that white wisp, a gaping maw and glaring red eyes shining down from a scaled head. The dragon roared thunderously, Hitsugaya's shuddering form nestled carefully against one huge, clawed foot. The beast's huge tail lashed violently against the building just behind it, sending a cascade of broken glass and concrete raining down into the street. While only half as tall as the zero-point robot, the sinuous, long body of the dragon was at least twice as long, and as everyone watched it breathed a terrifying blast of ice onto the inferno of Endeavor's flames, snuffing them instantly. The camera bounced again as Endeavor ran.

Izuku felt even the slightest iota of skepticism be replaced with stunning fear and awe, realizing exactly what was happening.

"That dragon…that has to be his Quirk," he breathed, causing Iida, Todoroki, and most of the rest of the stricken observers to stare at him instead. "Or at least the source of his second Quirk, if the semi-speed Quirk is actually separate."

The dragon disappeared after a moment, Hitsugaya staggering upright like a drunken sailor. But as the dragon vanished, so did any trace of the scales, wings, or tail on Hitsugaya's body, his new Quirk evaporating like dew on a summer's day. It didn't seem to faze the stricken teenager in the slightest, and Aizawa carefully dropped into the street right in front of the white-haired boy, his hair swirling around his head.

He'd erased Hitsugaya's Quirk.

Then there was a slight explosion, and Hitsugaya stumbled sideways, a large dart stuck in his hip. It took three minutes for Hitsugaya to completely collapse, but when he did Aizawa was there to catch him gently and pull the tranquilizer dart from his student's flesh. Hitsugaya didn't stir, limp and pale in Aizawa's secure grasp, and then Endeavor approached cautiously, his movements slow. Aizawa turned to face him, expression grim. A flicker of worry darted across his face.

 _~"…he did a number on you. Are you alright, Endeavor?"~_ Aizawa's voice was a little soft when heard over the speakers, but as Midnight, All Might and Snipe, who was equipped with a tranquilizer gun, dropped onto the street, Endeavor came closer and the voices cleared up.

 _~"…I'd like to say yes,"~_ the man grumbled irritably. ~ _"But no – I'm pretty sure your brat broke a rib or two when he roundhouse-kicked me in the chest earlier. And if I were anyone else, I'd also be suffering from hypothermia, if not frostbite."~_

Then the camera shifted a little bit, and Izuku realized for the first time that Endeavor had probably melted the camera's outer plastic shell to his body. That was really clever, he thought absently.

 _~"But that's beside the point now. You asked me to assess whether or not he was a threat,"~_ Endeavor grunted. ~ _"And I think all this destruction speaks for itself. I've never seen a Quirk that out of control since the first time I manifested mine and burned my whole house down. His combat skill-set would already make him a dangerous opponent, even if he was Quirkless. Combined with this Quirk – along with the one you lot reported to me – he's easily a force of nature."~_

All Might approached then, his smile turning slowly into a grimace of worry. Endeavor sighed as the number one hero approached, then turned to more fully face the muscular man.

 _~"All Might,"~_ he said, his voice chilly, an odd paradox. ~ _"Whenever you have time, I would advise you to keep an eye on that brat you have. You too, Eraserhead. If this whelp learns how to control this second Quirk of his but then becomes a villain, he'll probably be the greatest threat in Japan."~_

The pros kept talking quietly amongst themselves after that comment, exchanging anxious looks, and Aizawa's eyebrows furrowed together as he gently lifted the unconscious boy in his arms. Recovery Girl swallowed hard, then pressed a button on her microphone.

"Bring him to the infirmary, Shouta, I want to know why he's bleeding from his mouth. Endeavor, you are welcome to receive treatment here as well. As for the rest of you, someone please escort the students back to their classroom," she ordered, her voice sounding tired. Then Nedzu spoke up, his voice unusually grim.

~ _"I don't like doing this,"~_ he said darkly, beady eyes flashing. ~ _"But I feel that we should probably keep Hitsugaya-kun under some form of sedation for the time being, at least until he wakes."~_

Recovery Girl nodded in agreement, but let out a little huff of annoyance and upset at the principal.

"Yes, we should. But not because that boy needs to be caged, but rather because he needs rest from the horrors in his past," she scolded sharply. Nedzu's whiskers twitched, the tiny mouse slightly displeased by the response.

 _~"Chiyo-san, I understand better than anyone here what this boy has gone through,_ "~ the principal said firmly, ~ _"and I understand how bad of a decision this may be. But what happened here today – this cannot be allowed to happen again. If sedation is not acceptable to you, restraining him may be our only option to prevent him lashing out upon waking up, and I would avoid that if at all possible."~_

The conversation between the pros continued for a few more minutes, but finally Recovery Girl stood up and turned the sound off, then hurried out of the monitoring room towards her infirmary, where Hitsugaya, Endeavor, and several of the other pros would inevitably end up. The students of Class 1-A were chased out of the monitor room a few minutes later by a tight-lipped Snipe and a stunned Midnight, herded back to the locker rooms where they were all instructed to change and leave school for the day.

 _Test results would be back tomorrow – yes, we know it's three hours early, but you all need to go home while Nedzu, Aizawa, and All Might sort this out. Go on now._

The words were hurried, anxious looks thrown all around the classroom, but slowly the students all obeyed, gathering their books and heading for the gate. Izuku's head was spinning, the sheer amount of power Hitsugaya had displayed in his semiconscious state almost unbelievable. The amount of ice he'd created at once had been comparable to Todoroki's attack during the Sports Festival, but the color had been a little different, and the consistency of the ice had obviously been altered somehow. Otherwise there would have been no way that the concrete and steel buildings could have been shattered so quickly. And then there was the matter of the massive dragon that had appeared once Hitsugaya had collapsed, suggesting that the source of the white-haired teenager's power was similar to Tokoyami's Dark Shadow.

Hitsugaya had been screaming.

The thought was what stopped Izuku short, and he turned around to stare up at the school, heart clenching in his chest as he remembered that horrifying sound echoing over the microphone. Toushiro hadn't meant for any of that destruction to occur, he understood, compassion bleeding from his heart, and he clutched the straps of his bookbag a little tighter. It had been obvious that Hitsugaya had been trapped in some horrible memory, utterly lost in his own past. Even if he had been the cause of so much damage, he didn't deserve to be punished out of hand for something so out of his control.

So Izuku turned around, heading towards the rear of the school where the dorms were located. He'd never been to Hitsugaya's dorm before, but given just how few students boarded at U.A. Academy, it wasn't very difficult to figure out where he lived. And when he arrived at the dorms, he was surprised to find that he wasn't the only one waiting there. Todoroki and Tokoyami were sitting on benches, bookbags at their feet, and Yaoyorozu was sitting next to Tsuyu-chan and Uraraka beneath a large oak tree. Iida was hovering near them, obviously anxious. And a little bit off from the others were Kirishima, grinning brightly, and an oddly pensive Bakugo – recovered from overusing his Quirk – slumped against the concrete side of the dorms.

Yaoyorozu waved as he approached, giving Izuku a very serious look.

"The others want an update as soon as we learn if Hitsugaya-san is okay," she said, her voice subdued. "But we agreed that the entire class showing up would be a bit much. Even the nine of us here seems like too large a group, but we'll have to make do."

Izuku nodded, then settled in to wait between Uraraka and Iida, placing his backpack on the ground. Then he put his head on his knees, pulling his legs up to his chest with a sigh. And as they waited, a slow plan began to form.

* * *

 **So. Endeavor. I hate him. Sorta. Most recent chapter of BnHA manga have me like 'alright bro, I can respect that you're tryna change, but still get away from my boi Shouto.**

 **Anyway, leave a review if you have comments! (And don't worry, I only call out the flamers ;) )**


	13. Price to Pay

**A/N: Welp, and here's the aftermath of Toushiro's psychotic snap. And some of you thought I was powering him up. For shame! Don't you know me? No power-up comes without a cost.**

 **A** **nyway, a reviewer asked about the update schedule. Um...I don't have one? I try to put out one new chapter at least every two weeks, but it really depends on when I can get the next chapter fully written out, or how often I have to change my story outline (yes, I've planned out the whole story).**

 **And for those of you who don't like the recurring focus on the PTSD - Alright, I get it, you think it's overdone or boring. What I'm going to ask of you now is that you understand I am trying to write this _realistically._ As in, the PTSD _has_ to be a recurring problem because that's what happens in real life, and that it's triggered by little, nonsensical things because that's what _actually_ happens. At this point in the story, Hitsugaya has been in the BnHA universe for about three months, and he's only had four flashbacks that I've explicitly written down. In real life, this would probably be a fairly manageable amount of symptoms. You can assume he's had other issues off-camera (so to speak). But please don't just tell me that the PTSD is overdone. It's not. I've looked up first-hand accounts of what flashbacks feel like for PTSD victims. I've gone on WebMD, the website for the Anxiety & Depression Society of America, and the U.S Dept. of Veterans' Affairs webpages (among others) to research PTSD symptoms. I've actually done my homework. This isn't overdone. I've just compressed three months worth of mental suffering and four flashbacks into twelve chapters. **

**Also, I've showed you these four flashbacks early on for a reason. Those of you familiar with my previous work, _Transition Period_ , are aware that I'm all for writing long stories - _Transition Period_ is over 160,000 words. You might also have realized that I am very fond of resurrecting themes from early chapters and featuring them in later chapters. In other words, these four flashbacks - or more appropriately, the fears they represent - will feature later on in the story, in a more symbolic fashion, but you might not see the thematic continuity for another twenty chapters. And yes. I said 20 chapters. There are currently 119 bullet points on this story's plot-outline, and I am currently writing chapter 17 of this story. But I'm only on bullet point 25. You see what I'm getting at? I'm not writing this off the seat of my pants here.**

 **I think this will be the last time I address the PTSD issue. I understand that some of you don't seem to like Hitsugaya's PTSD, and don't understand his reactions to things that you think shouldn't set him off. I will respectfully disagree with you from this point forward. I know that if I or any other normal human being went through the shit Hitsugaya did during the Thousand Year Blood War, I'd probably be too terrified to leave my room. I mean, come on - the poor kid got blasted through the chest with fire, nearly got himself bisected (also with fire), had to watch and wait for his own execution as his near-dead lieutenant was dropped at his side, lost his Bankai, got turned into a mind-controlled zombie and was forced to kill his own comrades, and was practically tortured back to normal by Kurotsuchi with treatments that _in canon_ cut years off his lifespan. Among other things, like being ostracized as a little kid, being betrayed by a man he'd trusted with his sister's safety, and stabbing said sister in the chest as the result of a trick. (Hinamori is also a sour point here, as you may have noticed, but that bit of backstory won't come out for a while yet). ****Like, jeez, let the poor kid have his mental issues and act illogically. His brain has _literally_ rewired itself to create his current behavioral patterns (neurologically speaking) and that's actually _very_ difficult to fix - if any of you know anything at all about biopsychology, you probably understand where I'm going with this.**

 **Anyway, enjoy the chapter. This is the beginning of a new 'arc' if you would like to refer to it as that, now that the story set-up is almost done. And to those of you that don't like the PTSD, well, you lot should enjoy this arc a little bit more.**

* * *

 _Concrete and glass, tall skyscrapers reaching the clouds in fractals of rectangular regularity. A soul, dim and human, moving towards him at a steady run, a slow human sprint that could easily be outclassed by even the weakest shinigami. And blue eyes, filled with fire, with anger and annoyance that would have been cold had there not been condescension tinged by fury boiling under the blue sheen._

 _It was too easy, really, the world shifting into a familiar blur of color and light and sound and wind, the sky whispering to him as he stepped, crossing miles in a breath and yards in a blink. He came out of Shunpo with a kick, joints creaking with the effort of holding back, of holding himself to the low human standard, and felt ribs snap under his foot, his prey knocked backward and off balance._

 _And then red hair rippled into flame and he'd felt his heart still in his chest, a spasm of pain searing through the tender organ. But he'd blinked, gritting his teeth. No mohawks, no sass, no intolerable emptiness in his soul. His dragon was with him, and he would not lose this time._

 _The world turned as he did, spinning headfirst backward down the street, hands and feet each touching the warm asphalt in succession. Endeavor chased him, the spark of glimmering orange light spreading to his limbs until a firework crept after him at a snail's pace._

 _Then there was a snarl, a jeering shout of "Petty tricks will not work on me, brat!" and a spiral of pointed flame and heat, a fist coated in thick heat thrown at his face- chest- face- heart, cauterized instantly, rupturing down the center of his body so that he bled freely-_

 _A cry, shout of fear, robot human face in a shattered store window, the screaming of the unseated, the weak, the powerless, and fire consuming his cold soul from the inside out, but he had to fight-_

 _A slash, flame severing the sky from corner to corner, bisecting him- not this time-_

 _Lying on the ground, cut in two- cauterized so there's no blood, can't have the children seeing that- can't move- skin prickling with pain, throat slowly being cut open- here is the execution that never came-_

 _He's not ready to die yet._

 _Hyourinmaru._

Help…

 _And power turned his blood to ice._

…

…

…

"…gentle, we don't want to frighten him."

"He'll be fine, Aizawa. Recovery Girl put him on nitrous oxide and painkillers - he should feel nice and relaxed when he wakes up. Poor boy deserves at least that much."

There were voices around him, kind voices that held warmth and concern, familiar voices that cut through the vague murk of the half-formed dreams curling around him. Warmth was soaking through him, the softness of cotton cradling him in sunbeams, and he felt like he had managed to snuggle into a downy nest of sunshine. He shifted a little bit, tired by something, his throat numb. Wherever he was, it was warm, and he could tell that he was safe, the weak, gentle reiatsu lapping at his skin that of concerned humans. Slowly, his mind began to clear, the soft warmth of his surroundings gently tugging him back to full awareness, and after a moment of drifting aimlessly in the void he allowed himself to follow that pull.

The first thing he became aware of was a soft rubber thing on his face, covering his nose, and the cool current of air running through that sealed-off area. The scent of that air was a little bit sterile, just a touch different from normal air, but even as he arrived at the conclusion that someone was purposefully giving him some kind of inhalant he realized that the gas was contained in the rubber hood over his nose, allowing him to breathe normal air as well. It was a supplement of some kind then, rather than a drug delivered for the sole purpose of incapacitating him.

His throat was also very numb, the lack of feeling there somewhat worrisome but a good deal more familiar. He'd been under anesthetics enough times to recognize the telltale numbness of strong painkillers. He'd been injured, then? How…

 _Fire._

His eyes snapped open in muted panic, trying to raise his hands to protect himself from the Quincy's piercing flames, but he couldn't move his arms. Soft, wide cuffs around his wrists kept him from fighting, from resisting, but even though he was trapped the spike of expected fear was blunted – by the gas, he assumed – into mild concern. He went still, the gentle restraints keeping him pinned in bed, then shook himself a little bit, finally recognizing the ceiling above him. The U.A. infirmary. A kind voice sighed from somewhere out of his immediate line of vision.

"Ah, you're finally awake, Hitsugaya-kun." The wrinkled face of Recovery Girl slid into his vision, smiling slightly, and he felt her hand slide down to his wrists, undoing the restraints on his hands. Then, before he could pull his hands away, she gently pressed two fingers to the underside of his wrist, checking his pulse. He stilled obediently – years of being Unohana's patient had at least drilled that into his head.

"Nice and steady," she said, still speaking calmly. "That went much better than expected. Would you like to sit up a little bit?"

What went better than expected? He blinked at Recovery Girl in confusion, but opened his mouth to speak anyway.

"Ye-"

He cut himself off in the middle of the word as fire flared through his vocal cords, searing pain rendering him instantly unable to speak. He closed his eyes tightly, clamping his hands around his neck with a grimace. Recovery Girl let him breathe for a minute, then sat him up against some pillows and pressed a kiss to his forehead – god, her Quirk was weird. Almost immediately the pain began to ease up, and he started to get tired again.

"…ow…" he whispered, thankful that at least that soft sound hadn't scraped over the shredded, raw insides of his throat. Then he saw that Aizawa, Nedzu, and the man he'd been fighting during the final exam were all sitting in the room, along with a skinny, emaciated man with reiatsu identical to All Might. What the hell had happened-?

Oh. Oh _shit_.

The fire – now he remembered where it had come from, what had caused it, and his eyes slowly slid to Endeavor, horror flashing in his gaze. The red-haired man gazed evenly down at him, outright hostility in that blue glare.

"You almost killed me, you know," Endeavor said neutrally, but at the thought Toushiro couldn't help but flinch away. Killing a living human was tantamount to betraying everything he'd ever stood for, betraying every single oath he'd ever sworn during his time in the Gotei 13. But before he could respond someone else cut in, their voice chilly.

"That's enough, Endeavor," Aizawa said sharply. "Either keep your mouth shut or leave. Hitsugaya-kun doesn't need censure at the moment."

The silence that fell afterward was frigid, and Toushiro found himself gaping wordlessly at Aizawa, stunned by the fact that the teacher had leapt to his defense so quickly. Then the tired gaze turned on him, and he quickly dropped his gaze to the side. The little mask over his nose was definitely some kind of calming gas, and for the first time he was thankful that he was a little drugged up. Otherwise he knew that he'd be getting emotional – likely angry – because of yet another failure on his part. And anger was the last thing he needed right now, if he was to rectify this situation in any way.

"Hitsugaya-kun, look at me, please."

He bit his lower lip, fists clenching in the sheets, and allowed his gaze to drift back up. Aizawa was looking at him – just looking at him, no condemnation or judgement or pity anywhere within that dark stare.

"Do you remember what happened?" Aizawa's tone was even, his hands resting nonchalantly in his lap as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Hitsugaya swallowed.

"…A-a little bit," he whispered, wincing as his throat protested, still very sore. He could barely _speak_. What the _hell_ had happened? "I saw fire and… _shit_."

He shook himself, banishing the thoughts of Quincies with mohawks and Matsumoto's bloodied body – _he hadn't been strong enough to protect them_ – as best as he could. He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder and squeeze lightly. All Might's inexplicably emaciated face was closer than he'd expected, but instead of the usual showboating splendor there was only a deep-rooted kindness, a compassionate determination. Hitsugaya's lips curled up a little bit in a sour half-smile – it was so strange, just how similar Midoriya and All Might were, and that wasn't even considering the traces of All Might's mutated reiatsu present in Midoriya's soul.

"I lost control," he whispered roughly. For his throat to hurt this much after one of Recovery Girl's healing kisses combined with his accelerated shinigami healing – what on earth had he done? "And…I was fighting? All I can remember is…well, a memory."

Nedzu nodded once, pressing his paws together.

"Yes, you did lose control, and with quite devastating consequences," the small mouse said seriously. "I already deduced that you were having a flashback, perhaps triggered by the sight of Endeavor's flames, but the ensuing destruction your Quirk caused was enough to warrant the use of a tranquilizer gun, as well as the restraints and the laughing gas you're still on."

Hitsugaya wasn't surprised by that. His power would have been difficult to contain without subduing him from a safe distance, but what he was surprised by was the immediate assumption that his shinigami powers fell under the category of a Quirk. The release of his Zanpakuto, or even his inhuman strength, agility, and speed should have been enough to raise a few eyebrows, considering that the humans assumed Shunpo was his Quirk. Unless…

He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers curiously. The dry skin on the backs of his hands crackled unpleasantly, nasty pale flakes of dead skin floating away. He winced. That hurt too, and as he watched, incredulous, his skin began to bead with blood. How did his skin get this chapped, and so quickly?

"…My Quirk?" he asked slowly in that same whisper. Aizawa cleared his throat.

"Yes, your Quirk," Aizawa said seriously. "But not the Quirk that causes you to move at incredible speeds or allows your hands to glow. This Quirk appears to be something else entirely."

Hitsugaya sucked in a sharp breath, then winced.

"The scales," he breathed in realization. The stupid scales, caused by the weird frequency of mutated reiatsu emitted by All Might and Midoriya. Was that really what had happened? It had seemed so innocuous before. Nedzu nodded, his beady eyes softening slightly.

"Yes, the scales," he confirmed. "But it is more than that. You sprouted a pair of wings and a long tail with a sharp barb, and appeared to grow fangs and claws in addition to the pupils of your eyes changing shape. In addition, you were able to breathe a strange type of flame that froze whatever it touched, and after a particularly distressing scene you collapsed and a creature I can only describe as a dragon emerged from your body."

 _…_ _What the hell?_

"This second Quirk of yours…to say the least, this sort of occurrence has never been documented on this scale before, except in the case of the creatures called Nomu, one of which you killed in Hosu two months ago," Nedzu elaborated, and suddenly Hitsugaya felt electricity crackle down his spine. Suddenly, he knew _exactly_ what the pros suspected of this 'second' Quirk, and what that meant about the extent of their knowledge concerning the whole mangled-human affair. They thought the same person who had created the Nomu had also given him this Quirk.

Maybe this would work out to his advantage after all.

Hesitantly, with a quick glance in Recovery Girl's direction, he pulled the nose hood from his face and took a few deep breaths of clean air. Then he narrowed his eyes in Nedzu's direction.

"What are you trying to say?" he whispered carefully, acutely aware of the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere. Nedzu pressed the circular pads of his paws together, gazing evenly at the boy in the bed.

"No human has ever been known to develop a second Quirk so powerful unless they have directly interacted with a villain known as All-For-One," the mouse said calmly. "Some receive these Quirks willingly. Some are forced to take them. And some…some are used as human experiments, as creatures designed to cause chaos – the Nomu. You have alluded to undergoing something similar to this in the past, as well as belonging to an organization. And All-For-One is suspected to be the mastermind behind the League of Villains."

Oh. Oh, that was a reasonable leap in logic, and while it was very much incorrect, it made enough sense that it could destroy his story. In addition, he'd withheld the 'truth' from the pros before, making them that much less likely to believe anything he said now.

But now he finally had a lead on the person responsible for the spiritual mutilation of the human souls he'd sensed in Hosu. And it had been under his nose the entire time.

He swallowed gently, thinking, and was pleased when his throat only twinged slightly.

"Ah," he said finally, his voice still faint. "Now I see where you're coming from. That's a reasonable conclusion, but it's entirely wrong."

All Might's grip on his shoulder became a little bit tighter.

"Is it?" the emaciated man asked, his voice still kind, but now hiding a hint of steel that surprised the young shinigami captain more than he'd like to admit. And here he'd thought this man was all ridiculous smiles and bombastic charm.

"Yes, it is," Hitsugaya said then, taking a deep breath that scraped over his sore vocal chords. This move would be risky, but he knew that he could make it convincing, and as far as he could think it was the only option left available to him. "I have told you that my organization – as poor wording as that is – does not allow its agents to kill any humans except in a very small range of exceptions."

Then he looked directly into All Might's shadowed eyes and allowed reiatsu to prickle over his skin.

"But this man you call All-For-One," Toushiro said, his voice devoid of emotion. "He is an exception. And now that I know of his existence, my orders are absolute. He must be eliminated by any means necessary."

The pros started at the cold cruelty dripping from his words. Endeavor in particular seemed alarmed.

"…Are you saying you'll kill this man?" he asked, obviously taken aback. Hitsugaya let out a long breath. Step two, now.

"It will not be my first execution," he replied, his voice still low and raw and painful. "Though it will be my first time killing a human."

Then Nedzu's whiskers twitched, the beady eyes narrowing, and Hitsugaya knew the mouse had finally caught on.

"…You've executed others of your kind before?" he questioned gently. Hitsugaya's lips curled back, revealing teeth in a vampiric smile much more similar to a grimace. He'd figured the mouse would get it first, all the little hints and discrepancies that had been building up over the weeks. But to hear it put so bluntly by a living soul railed against everything he'd ever been taught as a shinigami, and he had to fight to keep himself from disappearing. They knew he wasn't human now, but they didn't know he was dead. They didn't know about the existence of the afterlife – and that was what really mattered.

High risk, high reward. Let's hope this paid off.

"…I was wondering when you'd guess that," he said tightly. Aizawa, All Might, and Endeavor stiffened, each one of them finally catching on to the careful wording and the subtle hostility. All Might's shaded eyes widened in shock.

"You're not…" his voice trailed off into the sudden silence. Hitsugaya glanced at him, a hint of patience in his jade eyes.

"It's not something I could have told you on my own – only confirm," the young captain explained patiently. Then he let his expression change, a hint of bitterness settling there. "I was human, once. Now I am not, for reasons I cannot reveal."

And, set. Nedzu, the mouse as quick as ever, instantly keyed in to his subtle line, taking the hook in careful paws.

"This 'organization' of yours and their experiments again, I assume," the mouse said, but there was a deceptive calmness in his voice that instantly had Toushiro on edge, mentally running through everything he'd ever said concerning his origins. "It does seem strange, however, that an 'organization' which employs non-humans sends its employees to deal with other non-human entities which apparently consume humans."

Hitsugaya felt his heart clench painfully in his chest before he took a soft breath to calm himself, his vocal cords still protesting. The pain was gradually easing up, though. Nedzu was making connections quicker than he could head them off, but this one could work in his favor.

"Ah, you mean the Hollows," he said nervously, finally allowing that genuine wariness to surface on his face, and he knew Nedzu saw it. The mouse principal would be more than capable of reaching his own conclusions. "You realize I can't tell you anything more than what I've already said about them."

The mouse smiled and stood, his little waistcoat a bit rumpled from his time sitting in a chair.

"Even that is enough, Hitsugaya-kun," he said gently. "Thank you. Now, about this second Quirk of yours."

Toushiro shook his head, smiling ruefully, then bit his lip and concentrated on his hands, tentatively pulling on that unusual little muscle he'd developed upon first coming into contact with All Might and Midoriya's strange, almost humming reiatsu. With a slight shimmer, scales rippled over his knuckles and up his forearms, the silvery-blue texture smooth. The teachers sucked in breaths of surprise at his control, and then he relaxed the scales back into his skin. Then he let out a short hiss, the dry skin cracking even worse as he turned his Quirk off. Blood trickled from the cracks in his flaking skin, and Recovery Girl quickly took his hands in her gloved ones.

"I don't know where this came from," he said after a long moment of allowing the old woman to slather moisturizing lotion onto his cracked skin and wrap the affected areas in a layer of protective gauze. "But I have noticed that it seems to grow stronger every…every time I…well, you get the picture."

The words wouldn't come, sticking to his tongue, and he gritted his teeth, fisting his hands in the sheets. For a moment the pros let him have his silence, and then Aizawa spoke up, a slow suspicion forming behind his scraggly stubble.

"Could this be a latent gene triggered by his PTSD?" the teacher wondered. Recovery Girl frowned.

"It is possible, but for a powerful Quirk such as this one to be so hidden through simple epigenetics is very rare, even more so because there was no indication of its existence earlier," she said, folding her hands in her lap, her expression thoughtful. "There have certainly been cases recorded where an individual's Quirk is altered due to trauma or environmental exposure affecting their genetic expression, but the scale is much smaller."

Aizawa suddenly moved a bit closer and settled a hand in Hitsugaya's soft white mane, and Toushiro scowled, brushing the hand off with a moody glare. The teacher's expression was soft, a hint of amusement entering that dark stare when Toushiro reacted in a manner so unexpectedly childish.

"Well, as Hitsugaya-kun said, he was human once," the dark-haired man's voice was tired, and somewhat sad. The compassion – no pity, _please_ god no pity – was warm and soothing, emanating from the world-weary man in waves. "Perhaps that shift…exacerbated the problem."

"Exacerbated indeed," Recovery Girl agreed. Then she leveled a stern glare at Hitsugaya, who blinked in surprise and recoiled, the expression unnervingly similar to the terrifying kindness that Unohana had oozed. He paled sharply. And All Might had the nerve to _chuckle_. The blond man promptly received the dirtiest glare Hitsugaya could muster.

"You, young man – or being, I suppose – are hereby forbidden from shouting or speaking loudly in any form for the next three days," she lectured sternly, and Toushiro cowered under that old woman's glare. Why were healers always _horrifying_? It wasn't fair! "Whatever that breath attack of your Quirk is, it tore your throat to ribbons. You nearly drowned in your own blood from the internal injuries. You also may not manifest the scales, wings, and tail of your Quirk for those three days, and you absolutely _must_ apply the medicated lotion I'm going to prescribe you twice a day at a minimum. This dry skin of yours is horrific and I'm not having it get infected on my watch. After the time period is up, you may practice this Quirk if you wish, but if you are going to do _anything_ , you must get Aizawa's approval and a teacher's supervision. Since you _are_ enrolled in the hero program, you may attempt to use your Quirk for class exercises, but _only with a teacher's explicit supervision_. And the level of power you pulled out of this Quirk during the exam will _not_ be matched ever again – the damage you sustained is far too much for this to be useful. Am I understood?"

He could only nod meekly, and then stiffened as the bossy little lady slapped a bottle of medicated skin lotion, a roll of bandaging and a packet of pills into his wrapped hands.

"The pills will help lessen any lingering inflammation and pain in your throat as well as speed the healing process," she said matter-of-factly. "And rewrap your arms up to the shoulder every time you reapply – the skin is most affected along your forearms and shoulders. Remember, _no talking loudly_. Avoid speaking at all, if you can."

Hitsugaya nodded obediently, still silent and wide-eyed, unable to believe that this was happening so easily. He hadn't had any strange powers manifest themselves so uncontrollably since Hyourinmaru had called to him in his dreams, but nobody had known how to help him at the Shinou Academy. Here, it seemed the exact opposite was true – and the thought sent flutters of unwilling excitement surging through him. But if he couldn't figure out how to get home, and he had to look for an evil mastermind anyway, he might as well figure out a way to fight on even footing with the humans – even if this new Quirk did cause health problems, he was sure he could work through then. And using shinigami arts could only go so far before others outside of the small circle of U.A. teachers got too suspicious. And so he left the infirmary with Hyorinmaru on his back, dressed in his school uniform – the gym uniform was ruined – and with the prescriptions in his hand.

Aizawa watched him go, then turned to Nedzu, All Might and Endeavor with a serious expression.

"We can't let him get anywhere near All-For-One," Aizawa said without preamble, and was gratified to see the others nodding, All Might especially. "He wasn't making an empty threat when he declared his intent to kill, and while his speed may be effective in a battle against someone with a single Quirk, All-for-One is too flexible in his combat style. He'd be killed or worse."

All Might sighed, folding his bony hands together and fixing his gaze on the tiles below him.

"That definitely was not an empty threat – everyone here has felt killing intent enough to recognize that, even as mild as his was," the Symbol of Peace sighed heavily. "However, it worries me that he considered a man's execution to be the fulfillment of some kind of 'order' which we are not privy to. I would say he's being used like a tool, and for one so young to be used like that…it seems like something All-for-One would exploit if Young Hitsugaya ever fell into the League's hands."

Aizawa laughed hollowly.

"Little wonder his PTSD is so severe," the man said bitterly.

* * *

It was the expectant pressure of watching eyes that first alerted him to the group of students scattered at random around the dorms where he lived, that and the agitated bubbling of human reiatsu that made his skin prickle. Then he actually saw them – all nine of them – and paused, somewhat surprised by their appearance. He'd been under the impression that his loss of control over the Quirk he was developing would have scared all of his classmates away from him, especially since he had made no real move to befriend any of them. He supposed cynically that this could still be the case – he'd been beaten up by bullies before enough times at the Academy to know that nine-on-one were unfortunate odds, and that people often tried to silence what they did not understand. But he squared his shoulders nonetheless, smoothing his expression into unruffled ice. He could handle a bunch of fifteen-year-olds alone, and Hyourinmaru was with him. He had to repeat the entire phrase to himself to make his feet move, however.

The slow shuffle back towards the dorm building where he had lived for the past two and half months carved dread into his every step, and he braced himself for the whispers and murmurs, or for the angry snarls of fear. But the nine of his classmates waiting for him silently, almost expectantly, still lounging aimlessly around on the grass or on benches. Nobody spoke until he was a few meters away, and then once he crossed some invisible threshold, eight pairs of eyes turned on Midoriya, who rose to his feet nervously, kicking at the ground with his red sneakers as he took a few steps forward. But just as Toushiro thought the other boy was going to get in his personal space, the green-haired teenager stopped, leaving a decently-sized gap between them. His wide, innocent eyes glinted with a kind of fiery compassion so unlike pity that Hitsugaya wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hitsugaya-kun, I'm not going to ask you if you're alright, because I think it's pretty obvious you're dealing with some stuff," Midoriya said then, and Toushiro realized the pale teenager wasn't stuttering nervously, a hint of surprise coursing through him. "But the teachers – All Might, Aizawa-sensei, Nedzu-sensei, Midnight-sensei, _someone_ – are they helping you to deal with it, or is there something we can do?"

Midoriya waved a frenetic hand back at the eight people behind him, and though Bakugo was scowling and muttering nasty words under his breath, Hitsugaya easily noticed the way the explosive teenager's red eyes scrolled carefully over him as if looking for injuries and lingered angrily on the bandaging wrapped gently around his arms and hands. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to politely thank the group then send them on their way without saying a single word concerning his issues, then felt his breath catch in his chest. Hyourinmaru hummed comfortingly under his breastbone. The dragon had been strangely quiet since the Quirk incident.

The pause was just a second too long. Midoriya took another step forward, that sunshine smile returning to grace his freckled cheeks in full force. However, while the broccoli-haired teenager was closer, he still was a few feet away, keeping just enough distance that Toushiro knew he'd be able to dodge a blow if necessary. A sudden chill ran down his spine as he saw Midoriya's eyes flick between them – was the other boy keeping his distance on purpose?

"Alright, you don't want to say anything," Midoriya chattered, obviously a bit nervous but pushing through it despite everything. Toushiro could feel his wariness ebbing slowly, the excited babbling reminding him far too much of a happy Hinamori when they'd still been nothing more than Rukongai siblings. Midoriya didn't appear to notice his marginal relaxation, still talking away. "I sort of expected that. But you have to be at least a little lonely here sometimes, and I know the cafeteria food can't be _that_ good all the time, even if Lunch Rush _is_ making most of it, so if you're not busy tonight or on bed rest or anything, I thought maybe you'd like to come over to my house for dinner? Everyone here was talking about it and we thought that we could all take turns inviting you over for dinner or weekend lunches or something so you wouldn't be by yourself here all the time, and I've already called my mom and told her I was going to invite you and she's okay with setting out an extra place-"

"Deku, you're talking too fucking much," Bakugo growled suddenly, a vein pulsing in his temple as he stomped forward. Suddenly the other students looked mildly alarmed and the redhead, Kirishima, hurried up as well as if preparing to head off an explosion. But the blonde teenager stopped a pace away, glaring moodily.

"Listen here Snowy," the grumpy teenager snarled. Hitsugaya couldn't stop the instinctive twitch at the nickname, biting back a snarl of his own, but Bakugo steamrolled over any objection he was going to make. "Deku's too fucking weak to tell you straight out, but you _are_ going to eat dinner with the loser and his mom, and anyone else who's fucking soft enough to coddle you, and if you've got a problem with that, I'll kick your weak ass and drag you over there myself. Understand?"

For a moment, Hitsugaya was stunned. His subordinates and comrades rarely ever had the guts to talk to him that way back in Seireitei, especially given his short temper. And then he remembered the brash smirk of the orange-haired moron who had rather obnoxiously bulldozed his way into being the Captain of the Fifth Division following Hirako's retirement. A slight scowl tinged by exasperated fondness flickered onto his face, and he shook his head with some resignation. Kurosaki would definitely have given him a similar speech, except that idiot would have probably punched him in the face first to get his point across. And maybe wouldn't have dropped expletives quite so often. On a good day.

So Hitsugaya just rolled his eyes, tipping his head back a bit.

"Tch. My name is Hitsugaya," he replied, voice still too faint and too raw for him to shout, only a bit of bite behind his words. Honestly, he could admit to being mildly amused by Bakugo's amateur attempt at pretending to be a cocky jackass in order to hide his concern. That was textbook social-awkwardness covered up by being 'tough.' Bakugo turned away with a snort of derision.

"Like I care about some extra's name," he scowled, "Go with the fucking loser already."

Toushiro couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from quirking up as he watched the blonde teenager stalk away. That had been almost as bad as watching Abarai try to talk to the Arisawa girl, who was now a Substitute Shinigami alongside the Kurosaki twins. Then he sighed and turned back to Midoriya, who was watching Bakugo go with a knowing look in his forest-colored eyes.

"I will have to ask Aizawa-sensei or Nedzu-sensei whether I can leave the school campus first," Hitsugaya said without preamble, his voice still restricted to just above a whisper. That caught Izuku's attention and the teenager frowned, forehead creasing in thought. He wasn't the only one taken aback by that revelation.

"Why do you need permission to leave school?" Todoroki interjected, his eyes narrowing. "That seems unnecessarily restrictive."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow at the heterochromatic teenager, then turned to Midoriya and Iida, contemplating the trio with narrowed eyes. Then he sighed and shook his head, annoyed.

"Which one of you two mentioned Hosu to Aizawa-sensei? Obviously it wasn't Todoroki-san since he's asking stupid questions." he asked flatly. "Or was it both of you? Midoriya has the analytical ability to come up with a correct conclusion, but Iida has the sense of responsibility to do something like that, so I'm not sure which of you was at fault."

There was a beat of silence, and then as Iida affected a confused expression Midoriya took a very noticeable step away, a slight crackle of green lightning flickering around his wrists. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and deliberately stretched, popping his back in the process. Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, Todoroki, Tokoyami, Kirishima, and a startled Bakugo watched in surprise. Obviously _they_ hadn't been aware of the Hosu incident.

"God, Midoriya, quit that," Hitsugaya snapped with a wince, glaring at the Quirk flickers along Izuku's arms and legs. Oops, a bit too loud. "You did something perfectly logical, and I'm not some self-centered prick who's going to make your life hard because you thought you were doing the right thing. I mentioned it because I figured they would have informed you when the situation was resolved."

Midoriya's expression cleared and a hint of relief passed across his freckled cheeks, quickly followed by a flash of hurt and confusion.

"They've talked you already?" he asked, his stance shifting. Hitsugaya nodded in response, folding his arms across his chest.

"If 'talking' means put me in handcuffs and hosted an interrogation, then yes," the shinigami said dryly, "I came clean, if you were wondering. The policeman responsible for my case was confident that juvenile court would let me off with a few months of 'house arrest' and required therapy considering my mind is _apparently_ so fucked-up I'm not fully responsible for my own actions. So I need to ask permission to leave. My case hasn't gone through court yet, and leaving at this point might count as running away."

It was only a half-lie, but the kids didn't need to know his cover story in full. In fact, it might make look more believable if he kept it a secret. He might as well blame everything on his mental instability. The nine of his classmates all stared, eyes wide, and, somewhat surprisingly, Uraraka was the first to get her tongue back in working order.

"You were arrested?" she yelped in surprise, her hair floating uncontrollably around her head when she grabbed at the strands in her shock. "Hitsugaya-kun, what did you _do_?"

Toushiro leveled her with an incredulous stare, then turned a searching gaze on Midoriya. Why on earth would the kid not have confided in his friends about what he'd seen or deduced? Hitsugaya was well aware that the green-haired teenager couldn't possibly have seen him actually kill the Nomu-creature, but Midoriya was unusually adept at analyzing strategy for a young human. If he'd suspected, why hadn't he said anything about his theories?

"…you didn't tell them?" he asked, confused, trying to read Midoriya's actions. But the green-headed teenager just shrugged sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"…it didn't feel right," the teenager admitted after a long pause. "You were so passionate about protecting other people, and you jumped in without hesitation when Todoroki-kun and Kacchan were being attacked by that monster at the Sports Festival…"

The green-haired kid took a deep breath, then looked up, meeting Hitsugaya's cold glance fearlessly. Toushiro blinked, wondering absently how it was possible for this nervous, stuttering boy with the brilliant smile to turn so suddenly into a pillar of strength, into a soul with actual convictions beyond blindly following a man they admired…alright, the comparisons to Hinamori weren't fair. But this sunshiny kid also having the strength his sister had always lacked was jarring. Not unpleasantly jarring, but there was a kind of sadness there. Hinamori could have been just like this if he'd just seen the Aizen-dependency forming at the beginning.

"I guess I just wanted to give you a chance to be one of the good guys," Midoriya said finally, still holding Hitsugaya's gaze without backing down. "And if I'd told the rest of the class, the wariness would have been there every time you walked in. That wouldn't have been fair to you."

Toushiro felt a bitter smile twitch his lips at that, feeling acid melancholia and bittersweet amusement churning in the pit of his stomach. Midoriya's gaze wasn't judgmental, but there was a hint of distance from that sunny personality now, a hint of caution now that the other teen's suspicion that Hitsugaya was the perpetrator of the Nomu's murder had been confirmed. And yet this kid had still tried to keep his classmates from being prejudiced – and was still doing so by refusing to confirm anything about the Hosu incident.

"One of the good guys…" Hitsugaya sighed. His expression turned a bit sad. "You're still very naïve, to see the world so black and white. Tell me, would it have been right to let that creature continue living, even when it's every moment of existence was agony, when all it would have been capable of is languishing in a cell, unable to think on its own? There was no hope that such a tormented creature would have ever regained its humanity."

Midoriya's expression shifted to consternation just as his classmates appeared to realize what Hitsugaya's involvement in Hosu was. The green-haired kid bit his lower lip, thinking hard.

"…you're still taking away their chance at recovery," he said after a moment. "Even if that chance is slim, you're still removing that possibility."

"Recovery from torture and experimentation is not as easy as you'd think," Hitsugaya said stiffly, eyes narrowing. He could feel his nails curling into his wrapped palms, further cracking the dried-out skin. "Some things damage the soul beyond repair. And whatever that creature had become, there was no reversing that. Despite what you might believe, there _are_ things worse than death in this world, and I chose to put that poor thing out of its misery before some well-intentioned _moron_ came along and tried to force it to fix itself."

There was a pregnant pause, and then Hitsugaya saw Midoriya's slowly-widening eyes twitch down toward the white bracelet around his wrist above the bandaging. Suddenly Toushiro's stomach lurched, a strike of queasy upset flipping the organ upside-down. Bile burned his throat as he deliberately swallowed the nausea. Shit, maybe he'd given too much away when he'd referenced the PTSD…He dropped his gaze from Midoriya's glistening forest-stare, his chest clenching.

"…I…I think I understand, Hitsugaya-kun," Midoriya's voice was a little shaken, but steady enough that Hitsugaya could tell the other boy was probably still looking at him. Then Uraraka spoke up, the clear concern in her voice so painfully full of confused pity that Toushiro almost wanted to throw something at her.

"What do you understand, Deku-kun?" she asked anxiously, her sneakers tapping on the ground as she padded up behind Midoriya. There was a brief pause. And then Midoriya's voice changed.

"…It's nothing, Uraraka-san," he said after a long moment. Hitsugaya paused, baffled, and looked up again in confusion. This was the second time this kid's behavior hadn't met his expectations, and it was starting to make him nervous.

He was well aware of the mostly-correct conclusions that Midoriya would be able to draw from his snap a few moments ago, and while he was fine with Nedzu and the adult humans knowing that kind of half-truth about him considering how integral to his cover those quibbling details were, letting one of his classmates find out was an entirely different kettle of fish. They didn't need to know that fire set his heart to pounding, that the taste of blood in his mouth would trigger an onslaught of terror and guilt, that the very idea of human experimentation made him sick. He had been lucky with the pro-heroes. He wasn't shown pity, nor was he forced to talk about his problems any more than was necessary for Aizawa and Nedzu to help him come up with methods he could use to calm himself down.

But these teenagers were just that – _teenagers_. None of them would have a decent grasp on psychology, and their idea of helping him (even if he wasn't exactly keen on being helped) would probably be to prod at him, to be as unbearably overbearing as Matsumoto in in her mother-hen mode until he went crazy. They'd talk behind his back, whispers of pity following him that would slowly turn into derision and spite as he rejected their advances. It had happened before, at the Shinou Academy. What made these kids any different?

And yet Midoriya had figured it out – had pieced together one of the horrifying pictures in his past – and yet he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't letting his classmates know about the horrors in Hitsugaya's past, regardless of how the other kids may be able to 'help' improve the situation.

"…I know you caught my slip," Hitsugaya said after a moment, "so why…?"

Midoriya shrugged. This time, he was the one to avert his eyes.

"Uh…uh, you don't really seem like the type of guy to…to appreciate pity," the green-haired kid stammered, that little nervous tic of his apparently returning the moment he started guessing and acting on intuition over his own logic. "And I get the impression that you'd prefer to keep to yourself, so…you'll tell us if you want to."

Hitsugaya blinked. Well then. That was a pleasant surprise. The tension caught in his chest relaxed a bit. He let out a breath of air, ignoring how the puff of his breath clouded in the warmer atmosphere.

"Thank you, Midoriya-san."

The short, quiet expression of gratitude resulted in a blinding smile, the sunshiny kindness of Midoriya's entire persona catching Toushiro entirely off guard, and before he knew quite what was happening the green-haired teenager had caught his gauze-wrapped wrist – gently, like the boy was afraid he'd further injure Hitsugaya – and turned back to Yaoyorozu, Iida, and the others with that same smile.

"Alright, we're off! I'll text to let you all know what Aizawa-sensei says, and if we're in the clear, Tokoyami-kun said he would take this weekend, right?"

The birdlike teenager nodded, his yellow beak twisting into a level-headed smile, and Iida waved his hands around for a moment before extending his palms toward his friend.

"I will be responsible for coming up with a schedule, Midoriya-kun! Please be careful on your way home!"

Hitsugaya stiffened, eyes widening in incredulous disbelief. What on earth…?

"Oi, you lot, I'm not a charity case- Hey, Midoriya!"

The green-haired boy had taken off back towards the main school building, his calloused fingers still wrapped gently but firmly around Hitsugaya's wrist, and Toushiro stumbled once as he was dragged along, spluttering with incoherent shock and a little bit of embarrassment. Then Asui and Yaoyorozu had the _gall_ to wave at him as Midoriya hauled him off, both smiling cheerfully, and a cold stone sunk into the pit of Toushiro's stomach. Hyourinmaru began to chuckle at the back of his mind.

If the insanity kept up, this was going to be as bad as the time he'd been in charge of the Karakura advance guard. And putting Abarai, Matsumoto, and two morons from the Eleventh _together_ was one of the worst ideas that had ever existed. But at the very least that trip hadn't been boring. It hadn't exactly been fun, as he'd been babysitting shinigami who were twice his age eighty percent of the time, but it had its moments.

A slight smile touched the edges of his mouth. Maybe being stuck here wouldn't be so bad either.

* * *

 **So, what did you think? Best constructive criticism or funniest omake idea will be offered the chance for a spoiler, as per the norm. :)**


	14. Acceptance

**A/N: There's a little bit of Inko-cuteness incoming, yay! Hopefully I did her justice - she's one of the most realistic anime parents I've ever seen. I rank her next to Maes Hughes (FMA) and that's saying something.**

 **Also, and a little bit more explanation about Hitsugaya's Quirk. This is really important, so stay tuned.**

 **Now with a bonus omake that is probably too long to be an actual omake!**

 **Edit: Some of you are confused about the whole 'Why didn't Hitsugaya go back through the Garganta?' deal. Sooo...the answer is very esoteric and entirely based around theoretical physics, black holes, white holes, and an actual theory about wormholes and dark matter. It's a really long explanation that will probably show up in its entirety much later once All-For-One stops being a problem, but - because it is so complex & theoretical - I haven't put it in yet. If you want the rundown in the meantime, feel free to message me!**

 **Edit 3/26/18: Nervix caught me saying 'One-for-All' instead of 'All-for-One.' It's fixed now, thanks!**

* * *

He might have only gone along with the whole thing in the first place because he did sort of have an appearance to keep up, but in the end, he was surprised to find that the small visit was pleasant. Sort of calming, actually, in a slightly melancholy kind of way that only a shinigami could really understand. For a moment he'd actually felt the warmth of a familial relationship, the kind he hadn't had since Hinamori had left for the Academy, and it was all due to one thing.

Midoriya-san was nice.

Well, Midoriya _Izuku_ was nice, true, but he'd known that for weeks, so he was more referring to Inko, Izuku's mother. She was a rather plump little woman, but even so it was obvious where Izuku's features had come from with just a glance, from the button nose to the oh-so-pinchable cheeks. Matsumoto would have loved to meet these two – she lived (er, died) for this kind of cute family relationship. But when he'd walked in the door, trailing self-consciously behind Midoriya-the-younger in one of the t-shirts All Might had given to him, his pair of dark jeans, and the grey high-top sneakers, she'd made a beeline for him.

"Oh, you must be Hitsugaya-kun," she'd said, everything about her ridiculously welcoming, her soft hands clasped beneath her chin. "Izuku was very adamant that I not smother you, but is it quite alright if I give you a hug? The reporters did a little piece – not much more than a paragraph – on your situation after the whole incident at the U.A. Sports Festival and I've just been so worried for you ever since."

Toushiro had been taken aback at first, but he hadn't wanted to appear unnecessarily rude, so he'd nodded, expecting something similar to Matusmoto's stranglehold. But then the petite woman had actually hugged him, and almost instantly he'd been reminded of his late grandmother. And after that he was caught like a fish with a hook in its mouth. Inko had reeled him in so carefully, inviting him to sit on the sofa while she set the plates out and very discreetly placing a scrapbook into his lap 'page three, just in case you ever need to keep Izuku quiet about something.' Izuku's face had caught on fire at the sight of that book in his hands, and sure enough on page three there were some suspiciously adorable and entirely embarrassing photos of a three-year-old Izuku who had apparently cut his own hair to look like All Might's.

The blackmail material was appreciated, and Toushiro had the sneaking suspicion that Izuku had given his mother permission to embarrass him like that in order to build a little bit of trust – even if it was built on blackmail.

But then Inko had called them over to the table as if the aroma of whatever foods she'd made wasn't enough to blindly attract two teenage boys, and the young captain had found himself hesitantly approaching as Izuku sat down across from his mother. Izuku had pulled out the chair next to him and patted the seat with that unfairly-cheerful smile in clear invitation, and he hadn't been able to escape. He'd sat down gingerly, staying awkwardly silent, the unfamiliar situation sending prickles of anxiety up his spine, his senses open for any foreign reiatsu in the areas. The paranoia had been unwarranted, and he'd tried to tell himself that once he'd caught himself spacing out in order to put his whirring mind and pounding heart to rest. It had worked, but only marginally. Then Inko had leaned in, her wide green eyes fixed worriedly on his face.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you're barely eating. Are you alright?" she'd asked, her chubby little face soft with a mother's gentle fretting. "Are you allergic to anything?"

He'd jerked back rather embarrassingly, broken from yet another wary sweep of the area, and nearly upset his plate as he'd done so. Inko hadn't made any reaction to the startled movement, barely batting an eye when he carefully set his chopsticks down (eating with gauze-wrapped fingers was more difficult than he'd remembered) and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ah…no, I'm fine," he'd replied softly, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for trying to talk to the kind woman. And then she had just shaken her head and let out a huge sigh, her already plump cheeks swelling up with air.

"My goodness, you and my Izuku do make quite the pair," she'd tutted warmly, her voice a gentle, almost affectionate scolding. "He's also quite a space cadet whenever he's worried or excited about something."

Izuku had laughed a bit sheepishly at that, and Hitsugaya had shot a curious glance at the fifteen-year-old out of the corner of his eye. His classmate had caught the look with a bit of a blush, obviously a bit embarrassed but trying to play it off. And then the green-haired boy had appeared to steel himself and had quickly, and expertly, redirected the conversation.

"Were you thinking about the Japanese Literature exam?" Izuku had said, his voice just a bit louder than necessary, hands fidgeting with his chopsticks. "I know it's your worst subject, and I thought the exam was pretty difficult."

Inko had immediately latched onto that relatively easy topic, her gaze never leaving Hitsugaya's face, and they'd tag-teamed throughout the entire conversation. It had been something of a relief, discussing the school year and Ectoplasm's penchant for giving them ridiculous calculus problems. And as the pair had kept him talking or eating and listening, he'd gradually realized that he was relaxing. And he'd known without really understanding why that both Inko and Izuku had been keeping him talking on purpose, keeping him focused in the present without directly saying anything about the paranoia or split attention he had been showing.

It had been a very pleasant experience. Nobody had forced him to try and talk about what was bothering him. They'd just gone straight into being wholesome distractions, no questions asked. And once they'd finished eating, Inko had pulled out some kind of game that involved little metal bits, and bunch of different cards, fake money, and a folding cardboard mat with a bunch of multicolored squares. But just as he had been about to make his escape, the woman had invited him to play with such cheerful kindness that he hadn't been able to refuse. Izuku had rather nervously explained the rules to him, and then they'd spent about an hour moving the little pieces around in circles and charging each other ridiculous prices for landing on the little squares.

And, much to Toushiro's eternal surprise, he'd actually liked the game, though it may have been because Izuku's fluffy frustration every time he landed on the dark blue square of death – Boardwalk, the square was named – was highly entertaining to watch. By the time it was time for Toushiro to start heading back to the dorms, he had amassed an inordinate amount of the colored scraps of fake money, and while Inko had been quite calm about the whole thing, Izuku had been a ball of squalling frustration sufficiently distracting enough to keep the reflexive need to scan the room at bay.

Izuku had walked back to the metro station with him, his feet shuffling, his attempts at conversation starting to trickle back into his usual hesitance. And then the other teenager had finally straightened up and given Hitsugaya a look of that same firm, fiery compassion that had so caught the captain off-guard earlier that day.

"…will you be okay to come back sometime, Hitsugaya-kun?" Izuku had asked, his voice serious. "…it wasn't too much, was it?"

Toushiro had turned back from the turnstile and had faced Izuku, taking a deep, steadying breath. His hand had tightened on the metal railing, but he'd forced himself to answer truthfully, both for Izuku's sake and his own. The visit had helped. Izuku and his mother had helped. Because for even just a little while, even though the Midoriya pair were living humans that barely knew him, he'd felt the same kind of comfort that he'd only ever gotten from his late grandmother and Hinamori – when she'd still been his sister.

"No, it wasn't too much," he'd replied honestly, a kind of grateful sadness on his face. "…it was very nice having dinner with you and your mother."

Izuku's unfairly brilliant smile had caught him full in the face, and before he knew exactly what was happening the other teenager had already made him soften up a little bit, the Hinamori-esque pureness cracking his icy walls. Izuku had put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed once, then backed up.

"…if you need someone to talk to, for any reason at all, you can talk to me," Izuku had said quietly. "You're my friend, after all."

Toushiro had gone quiet. He hadn't really known what to say to that. Then he'd let out a shaky sigh and dipped his head once, trying to quell the emotion threatening to close his throat up.

"…thank you, Midoriya-san."

Now, since they'd parted ways at the train station three hours ago, the lingering ghost of warmth was still curled around his heart, even as he'd arrived back in his dorm room and sent a quick email to Aizawa to let the man know that's he'd returned safely to the school campus. He flopped back on the bed, letting himself bounce on the thin mattress. Hyourinmaru rumbled gently at him, finally speaking again.

 _"_ _I never thought I would see the day when a human manages to touch your heart."_

Hitsugaya let himself smile a little, still bewildered by the entire experience and the way he'd felt the high-strung battle awareness slowly slip away into something just a little calmer, a more passive skimming of the area around him. The relaxation of that tension had been exactly what he needed recently, and while part of him was screaming that lowering his guard was a mistake, that the only way for him to keep himself and everyone else safe was to never rest…the other part of him longed for it.

 _"_ _Little one?"_

Ah, that was right, his soul-partner was speaking to him. How odd for him to not notice.

 _"…_ _I'm sorry, Hyourinmaru. I am distracted."_

There was a gentle chuff of laughter, and Toushiro closed his eyes, still laying sprawled on his bed.

 _"_ _I can see that,"_ the dragon teased him gently, the cold smoothness of the massive muzzle nudging against Hitsugaya's ribs as the great ice drake settled in his inner world, the soothing chill of winter lulling him slowly into a doze. _"Your body is tired. The Quirk which you have developed is exceptionally hard on you – not just physically."_

 _"_ _It's probably why I didn't fight harder against Midoriya-san when he invited me to his home,"_ Toushiro mused tiredly, unwilling to argue this point with the better part of his soul. Hyourinmaru chuffed with laughter again and suddenly Toushiro felt the dragon's cool breath on his skin, the cold just as comforting as warmth would be to a normal human.

 _"_ _That and the fact that you long for someone to care for you the way that Hinamori and your Granny used to, little one,"_ the dragon said tenderly. _"You wish to be at once more and less than just Hitsugaya-taicho, and in this place you are slowly finding that kindness."_

 _"_ _There are no expectations of my strength here,"_ Toushiro replied sluggishly. He could feel himself slipping into sleep, and Hyourinmaru wasn't helping by coiling around his inner self so securely. _"I can be strong and be weak in equal measure where Hitsugaya-taicho of the Tenth Division must only show strength, and I have not had that luxury for several decades."_

A sigh came from the large reptile and suddenly Toushiro was drifting off as Hyourinmaru exercised his influence to carefully pull his young wielder further into the icy plain of dreams.

 _"…_ _I think you would have found that those you love would not have seen you as weak regardless if you had succumbed to the horror of your past in Seireitei or here,"_ the dragon said gently. _"Now sleep, little one. You are tired from the strain this Quirk places on your soul and today's events."_

 _"_ _Oh yeah, I meant to ask you about that. Did you_ really _manage a corporeal manifestation here, without me drawing you out purposefully?"_

 _"_ _It seems that your Quirk draws on my existence and nature, and projects it onto your body. I merely need to grant you my power for it to work, and when I manifested today, I did so because I felt your fear and pain of your memories and thought only to protect you. I believed you were calling on my power purposefully, and through the usual means of Bankai. But you should not call on me so again – it is too dangerous."_

 _"…_ _interesting. So my Quirk is tied to you. I wonder if all these Quirks are somehow related to the individual variations in human reiryoku…?"_

Hyourinmaru puffed another comfortingly cool breath onto his face and Toushiro felt the tendrils of his thoughts slide away. It was a familiar rebuke, this careful huff of dragon breath on his icy body. It wasn't the first time his Zanpakutou had forced him to sleep, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

 _"_ _Sleep, fledgling dragon of mine. Think when your mind is clear."_

Toushiro sighed and turned his head, pressing one cheek against the phantom scales coiled gently around his inner self. He couldn't stop a ghostly smile curling the corners of his lips up, and as he finally drifted off, the last thing he knew was the tender sense of safety that his Zanpakutou had gifted him with.

* * *

The air was already somewhat humid, and Toushiro tried not to wince at the thought of how stifling the day would become later on, when the heat combined with the muggy atmosphere to become intolerable. But nonetheless he found himself distracted as he meandered from the dorm he lived in to the main school building, utterly preoccupied with his newfound Quirk. The medicated lotion had done wonders for his dry skin, and he had stashed the bottle and bandages in his messenger bag, ready for use whenever he needed it.

 _"_ _Quit playing with it, little one – you don't want to unnecessarily anger a healer."_

Hitsugaya tried not to pout at his Zanpakutou spirit, a petulant scowl crossing his face, and relaxed the strange little muscle that turned his skin into scales, watching as the usual gold of his arms reappeared from underneath the silvery blue of Hyourinmaru's scales. He pulled the strip of bandaging back over the area – after all, Hyourinmaru was right. He wasn't about to risk Recovery Girl's wrath. Angry healers were _not_ fun people to deal with.

 _"_ _You're just annoyed that I'm not calling on your power in the usual way while I'm trying to figure out a decent way to present this new Quirk,"_ Toushiro replied sourly. Hyourinmaru snorted, disapproval rolling off him in waves of anxiety, but Hitsugaya wasn't having any of it. _"You're not fooling me with that snooty act of yours, you know."_

Hyourinmaru remained stubbornly silent, and Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, reached over his shoulder, and tapped the Zanpakutou's hilt reprovingly. Then he took a deep breath and flexed that little muscle that was his Quirk, focusing on the vague, clouded memory of projecting that prickling transition outwards as he tried to simultaneously materialize Hyourinmaru's physical form.

 _"_ _Master, no!"_

The shout broke his concentration, and he stumbled, yelping in surprise as his inner world shook. Hyourinmaru's panic rattled him more than he was willing to admit.

 _"_ _Hyourinmaru?"_

 _"_ _You must never summon my full power that way again. It nearly ripped apart your soul when it happened yesterday – if Aizawa-sensei had not quelled this power of yours when he did, you would have undergone Soul Suicide."_

Hitsugaya felt a sudden chill of fear travel down his spine. Soul Suicide would have been the end of him – the utter annihilation of his soul. He wouldn't have even had the chance to Hollowify. He would have just…self-destructed. His own Quirk could have killed him.

 _"_ _Holy shit."_

Hyourinmaru chuckled shortly, trembling slightly in his inner world.

 _"_ _Indeed, little one."_ The dragon's agreement was short and tense, betraying just how much panic the wise creature had felt. Toushiro swallowed hard, then sighed, still curious even though the danger was very, very real.

 _"_ _Perhaps it would work if I did not summon your full power – or you held back the way you did when I lived in Junrinan?"_

Hyourinmaru growled in warning.

 _"_ _It may. It may also hurt you beyond repair,"_ the dragon said guardedly, though Hitsugaya could tell the naturally inquisitive portion of their shared soul was affecting Hyourinmaru's decision.

 _"…_ _I would like to test it nonetheless. Stop me if anything goes wrong."_

 _"…_ _As you wish, little one."_

Carefully, Toushiro again flexed that weird little muscle and hesitantly pushed outwards. And the dragon, now grudgingly willing to participate, allowed just the barest hint of his power to bleed into the real world. Toushiro choked as a wisp of white light emerged from his chest, tickling at his heart and lungs as it did so, and proceeded to coil around his shoulders once before solidifying into a miniature version of Hyourinmaru, complete with small fangs, puffing smoke-mist, and gleaming ruby eyes. His Soul Sleep ached uncomfortably for a moment, then appeared to settle down.

"Well, it does not seem to harm you unduly at this meagre level – it places about the same stress as Bankai does on your soul. However…there is something slightly unexpected," the little dragon said, and Hitsugaya frowned when his soul-partner's voice both reached his ears and resonated in the depths of his mind, creating a strange doubled sound that he was entirely unused to. "I can see both your inner world and the outside plane at once."

Toushiro gently reached up and stroked Hyourinmaru's head, suddenly feeling remarkably secure now that Hyourinmaru was coiled about his shoulders.

"Well, at the very least you are similar to Tokoyami-san's Quirk like this," Toushiro said. "It should be explainable enough."

Hyourinmaru hummed cheerfully, much more comfortable once he knew his master was alright, then flicked his master's cheek with his tail, slightly playful. Toushiro started in surprise, then snorted derisively and kept ascending the staircase towards the classroom, long since used to his Zanpakutou's odd mixture of childish impulse and ancient wisdom.

"I do believe I rather enjoy this," the ice drake declared imperiously. "I think I will take a nap while I can bask in the moisture in the air. Do not strain your reiryoku any more than necessary."

"I won't, so suit yourself," Toushiro replied, his tone light. The little dragon settled his head on his master's pale collarbone then and shut his red eyes, quickly falling into a doze as Toushiro ghosted silently down the hall towards the classroom. He could see Mineta and Kaminari approaching from the other end of the hallway, chatting to each other. They reached the door first, and as Kaminari pushed it open Mineta glanced up to see Hitsugaya. And then the purple-haired boy paled instantly, the color leaving his face, and he took a step away.

It was like a knife had twisted in his chest, and Hitsugaya had to fight back a snarl of mixed anger and grief at that familiar look of fear directed his way. As it was, he knew his face was contorting into a grimace. Kaminari glanced at Mineta in consternation, then flicked his gaze over to Hitsugaya with a curious blink. The young captain braced himself. Then Kaminari smacked Mineta over the head. The purple-haired midget instantly returned to normal, now glancing fearfully up at Kaminari.

The electric teenager grinned at Hitsugaya.

"Hey man, are you alright after yesterday?" the boy asked, mixed excitement and concern allowing his voice to bounce. "I'm still not sure whether you going off the rails was badass or scary yet, but Aizawa-sensei told us all to go straight home so I figured you probably weren't the in best shape afterward. I mean, if it's a new Quirk it's probably pretty rough on your body."

Hitsugaya was speechless for a second, utterly taken aback by how nonchalant Kaminari was, then swallowed hard and followed the blonde into the classroom.

"…I'm fine, thank you," he replied quietly, not entirely sure why the blonde seemed so relaxed about the whole affair. Kaminari grinned.

"Awesome!" he cheered. "But man, that was crazy! Was that your first time with that Quirk? You looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum and discovering he could blow stuff up – huh, wonder if that's what Bakugo-kun did when he figured his Quirk out."

The comment drew a sharp bark from the explosive teenager, one of the impressively furious expressions etched into the lines of his face, and Hitsugaya watched with some measure of confusion as the two blondes got into something like an argument. Of course, any argument with Bakugo was more of a 'dodge-the-boom' than anything, but Kaminari was doing a splendid job of throwing jabs right back at the easily-riled teenager, laughing all the while. It would have been rather amusing if Hitsugaya hadn't still been reeling from the easy interaction with Kaminari following his loss of control.

Back in Seireitei, that would have been cause for widespread fear among all but the strongest. So why wasn't an out-of-control Quirk causing the same panic here?

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun, I wasn't expecting to see you in class today!"

Toushiro whirled around to see Iida smiling at him, his robotic knife-hands pointing every which way as he talked. The dark-haired teenager set a hand on his classmate's shoulder, and Hitsugaya absently took note of the deliberate, unhurried pace of the other teenager's movement.

"Are you recovered from overusing your newfound Quirk yesterday? I remember being in bed due to an acute pain in my calves for a few days after using my Engine for the very first time," Iida said in his usual affably pompous manner. The young shinigami just blinked, staring shamelessly for a long moment.

"…I'm not supposed to speak loudly…and I might have to leave class for a bit to reapply some medication…" he stammered finally, having some trouble reactivating the portion of his brain which seemed to have gone temporarily dead. Iida nodded, looking very serious.

"I see. I will ensure that you have no reason to speak loudly for the next few days then, Hitsugaya-kun," the studious teenager seemed perfectly accepting, utterly calm about the whole affair. And finally Hitsugaya couldn't contain the curious incomprehension he was drowning in.

"…why aren't you scared? You weren't yesterday, and you aren't today – has it not set in yet?" he asked tightly, gaze flickering between Kaminarai, Iida, and the several other students who were completely at ease in his presence. The question appeared to startle his classmates. Towards the back of the room, Todoroki cocked his head to the side and took a few steps forward. The half-and-half boy looked a bit confused by the question, but otherwise calm.

"You didn't mean to use that Quirk," Todoroki pointed out. "We all saw the footage of your exam, and it was pretty clear that you weren't seeing Endeavor or the exam arena. You called on that Quirk's power to protect yourself, and since it was your first time using it like that it went completely out of control. Am I right?"

Hitsugaya stiffened, eyes narrowing to thin slits of emerald, but he couldn't find any reason to disagree with Todoroki. He had been lost the moment he'd seen the fire, felt it's heat lick over his skin without a scrap of ice to protect him. Calling on his Quirk - now that he could only recall vaguely, but he did know that pulling the little muscle to summon up Hyourinmaru's power in his very reishi had been a reflexive move. So he just lowered his head, fists tightening. Why was he so upset about this?

"What do my intentions have to do with anything?" he said, surprised and yet resigned when bitterness crept into his tone. Todoroki's expression changed, a kind of sadness passing across his face.

"A lot, actually. It's pretty common for little kids with powerful Quirks to accidentally overuse them when they first get them, and they often end up hurting themselves or others. But because you're older when you're using it for the first time, it makes sense that your Quirk would be more destructive," Todoroki's voice was level, but as he held up his hand that outward calmness broke a little. "My Quirk is partially fire, if you'll remember. When my Quirk first manifested, I almost caused a house fire. Endeavor actually burnt his house down. And Present Mic apparently caused his parents' ears to bleed from the moment he was born. But that's forgivable. None of us meant for those things to happen, but we had abilities we weren't yet used to. You're the same."

Well. Wasn't that something. How different it was here, in this sheltered world where power was expected as a matter of course rather than an oddity, a curse that made your stomach growl, an evil gift that made you weaken others with your mere presence. Here, power was expected to help, not to hurt. There was no fear of those who were powerful, no terrified reverence, no whispered rumors that turned people into legends, myths of heavy-handed command and heartless obedience to cold law.

Here, heroes saved people because they wanted to, because they were able to make a living helping others. There, shinigami saved people because duty and the oaths they swore required, and they killed for the same reason. There, power was the source of fear, Here, it was praised and looked up to. The heroes were symbols of good and peace and light and nothing else.

His lips curled sourly. How cute.

"Tch. I still could have killed someone by mistake," he sneered, watching as Iida and Todoroki both flinched away at the sudden hostility. But after a moment Todoroki recovered, his heterochromatic gaze very even.

"…We already know you're capable of that," Todoroki said after a long minute, his tone of voice rather soft, and Hitsugaya had to remind himself to breathe steadily, the simple sentence knocking the wind out of him. "But this time you didn't mean it to happen, and that makes a difference."

The class was silent for a second, several of the students who hadn't been present for the reveal of Hitsugaya's involvement with the Hosu Nomu blinking in confusion. But those who had been there held their breath, stunned that Todoroki would even bring that incident up and even more stunned that Hitsugaya wasn't responding with immediate anger and violence. It took a moment for anything to happen, and during this time Midoriya and the rest of the class came trickling into the room, looking nervously between the two before taking their seats.

"…I would laugh at your naivety if it was not so painfully heartfelt," Hitsugaya said finally, turning back to his own desk. "Power kills, especially in the wrong hands."

Todoroki shrugged.

"And it also saves, especially in the right hands," he countered. Then his expression softened a little bit. "Look, you asked why we weren't scared. I told you why. And I trust that if you really wanted any of us hurt, dead, or otherwise incapacitated, you would not have saved my life back in March."

Hitsugaya froze, staring at Todoroki. _Trust?_ Todoroki _trusted_ him? What- did this kid know anything about the way the world actually worked?

"You trust me, just like that?" Toushiro breathed out, tensing up without understanding why. He could feel his blood pounding, heart clenching in his chest. A shaky laugh managed to claw its way from his throat. "That will get you killed or worse, one day."

The half-and-half boy gave him a strange look, then slowly shook his head.

"Maybe not," he said quietly. "After all, this 'golden dream world' of ours doesn't seem anything like the place you came from. I mean…it's not perfect. There are villains here that want to kill and steal, and that won't hold back from hurting us just because we're kids. But I trust everyone in this room, because I know how hard they're working so they can one day keep the world a little bit safer. And you're included in that, because of what you said about people and power and those having power being responsible for using it to help. Even if you _are_ still trying to put yourself back together…I could tell you really meant that when you said it."

Hitsugaya blinked, slightly taken aback. He'd almost forgotten that first outburst of his, close to three months ago when he'd first been placed at U.A. for the teachers to watch over him. That first snap, when he'd snarled his disgust and envy of a world where children were not forced to fight if they had power, where having power in the first place was a blessing and not cause to inspire terror. Slowly, he felt the irrational anger start to melt away. After all, he couldn't exactly argue with himself, and though he wanted to shake the other boy until there was _sense_ in that bicolored head, he knew the feeling was irrational. Paranoia didn't suit human teenagers.

"He speaks wisdom, Toushiro," the familiar voice throbbed in that strange doubled manner, a low rumble by his ear and in his heart at once. But Hyourinmaru's voice did its work well and he relaxed, immediately more at ease with the gentle reminder that the other half of his soul was coiled protectively over his shoulders. There were several yelps of excitement from his classmates, and before he knew entirely what was happening Tokoyami's Dark Shadow was in front of him, peering closely at the small dragon. Midoriya was also leaning in close, eyes sparkling. And for once even shy Kouda looked excited.

"So you also have a creature which resides in your body, Hitsugaya-kun?" Tokoyami's beak was pulled in what seemed like a smile, and after a moment Hitsugaya nodded, gently touching Hyourinmaru's small head.

"I think so. I still don't understand it myself, to be fully honest, but I know that calling him out in a size any larger than this nearly kills me," he replied evenly. Hyourinmaru snorted and flicked him on the side of the head again.

"You ruined my nap, you know," the Zanpakutou huffed in irritation. Hitsugaya felt his mouth quirk, amusement passing across his face as clear as day, and without a second glance at his classmates he sat down at his desk, absently stroking the dragon's scaled body.

"So fussy," he said, lips twisted in that mirthful smirk. The small dragon growled and blew icy mist in his face.

"Watch yourself, hatchling," Hyourinmaru rumbled, but he nuzzled back into Hitsugaya's skin, sending a prickling chill creeping over the golden cheek. Hitsugaya sighed in relief, then dutifully opened his notebook as Aizawa walked into the classroom and began writing, analyzing the information he'd managed to scrape together concerning All-for-One and his possible way home.

But he didn't get far. Most of the theories he'd come up with revolved around concepts far too large for him to do anything about on his own. The most credible was that his presence in this universe was the catalyst holding open a wormhole of sorts, a one-way tunnel from Tokyo – where he'd been caught up in the strange force that had pulled him across dimensions – to this universe. And through this gap in spacetime, hapless Hollows could come through by accidentally opening Gargantas the same way they'd open Gargantas into the Dangai. Of course, this left him with the problem of closing that wormhole so Hollows could no longer follow him across worlds. And to do that, he'd have to travel backward through that same wormhole, which meant finding the exact person who had brought him here in the first place.

His theories about All-for-One were similar in nature. He had no idea who the man could be, and short of hunting down a high-ranking member of the League of Villains and extracting information from them, he wouldn't be able to find the man. And it was clear that the adults knew something, but _they_ weren't telling him anything anytime soon. He was still too unstable, a fact which, while painful, could no longer be denied following his loss of control yesterday.

So for the first time, he dropped the pen, sighed, and slumped forward over his desk. Hyourinmaru purred contentedly against his pulse. And then he let himself soften a little bit, let his mind drift back to the days when his power wasn't cause for fear or panic or jealousy, but rather taken in stride by his old grandmother. To think that high-schoolers would be the ones to give that easy acceptance back to him.

Then a chilling thought shot down his spine and turned his blood to ice.

…He could _never_ let Matsumoto know about _anything_ that happened while he was here.

* * *

 **OMAKE TIME!**

 **Omake idea: Nervix**

 **Setting: Sometime after everyone has moved into the new U.A. dorms. We're pretending everyone knows that Hitsugaya is a Shinigami.**

It had snowed last night, courtesy of one Hitsugaya Toushiro and an incident involving the resident pervert Mineta Minoru, some bananas, a magnifying glass, and ( _dear god why, Kaminari_ ) vodka.

Izuku still didn't want to know where Kaminari had gotten the vodka, nor how he'd gotten all three bottles past Aizawa, nor how he'd gotten literally half of the class _including Iida_ to agree to drink while _underage_ , but it had happened. Privately, Midoriya considered the possibility that Kaminari had managed to spike the fruit punch they'd all been drinking before bringing the bottles out. It was a definite possibility. Actually, it was almost certain since Iida had been one of the first to request a shot.

But it was never happening again.

 _Never_.

"Midoriya-chan, how's he doing?"

It was Tsuyu-chan, coming out of the kitchen with a large pitcher of watered-down Gatorade in her hands. There were a few notable members of Class 1-A who had been more affected by the alcohol than others, namely Mineta (which explained the banana and magnifying glass), Kirishima, Kaminari himself, and Uraraka, and poor Tsuyu-chan had been stuck running Gatorade and painkillers to them all morning while their hangovers trailed off into nothing. But by far the most affected was none other than Hitsugaya himself who, after being annoyed to pieces by a drunk Mineta, bananas, and the deadly magnifying glass, had downed six shots in a row _completely straight-faced_ and then proceeded to commandeer one of the bottles. Once that had happened, everyone else had pretty much dropped their cups, stashed the remaining vodka away in a hidden place, and set about trying to coax the obstinate shinigami to give up the booze. It had been mildly terrifying, and not for the first time that day Midoriya wondered if Hitsugaya had once used alcohol to ignore his PTSD symptoms. It certainly made him a happy person.

"Still sleeping on-and-off. Can I get you to refill his cup?"

"Sure."

Toushiro, after they'd wrested the bottle from him last night, had been rather forcibly put to bed by Katsuki on one of the couches in the common room. He'd been a slurring, babbling mess by that point, and Izuku had been hard-pressed to get him to close his eyes. He was still there now, sleeping peacefully with a cool cloth on his forehead and a trashcan at his side. Izuku, Todoroki, and a few other sober individuals from Class 1-A had taken turns checking on their less coherent classmates throughout the night last night, and once the alcohol had really hit Hitsugaya's system, the young shinigami had lost control of his reiatsu.

And now there were three feet of snow on the ground outside. Todoroki was out there now, trying to melt a path to the school. It didn't seem to be working very well, and as Midoriya watched the half-and-half teenager flopped down in a snowbank, looking very grumpy. He giggled a little bit.

"Do you remember what Hitsugaya-kun said to Todoroki-kun last night?"

The frog-like girl choked, her cheeks coloring, and nodded as she tried to stifle her laughter. He'd said a lot of things last night, too cheerfully wasted to have a functioning filter, and most of it had been pretty funny. The Todoroki comment, however, had also been bitingly insulting in the funniest manner possible, and it had Bakugo rolling on the floor.

 _"Ehhhh, Todoroki-kuuun, ya look...ya look like a-a pepperminty sweet-thing, mmhmm? A-aaand you're even s-sorta the same, bcause ya ice s'only tickles a'lil...like a...a pep-a-mint."_

The teenaged shinigami had been lying almost completely in Todoroki's lap as he'd been slurring this, a lazy, innocent smile on his usually-stoic face, the deep flush of thorough intoxication spread over his pert nose and cheekbones. Todoroki had almost looked like he'd swallowed a lemon rind, but he'd forced himself to stay calm, petting Toushiro's white mop of fluff in an effort to keep the drunk boy from causing more mayhem. But then it got worse, Bakugo's howling laughter drawing Hitsugaya's attention, and the incapacitated teenager had swayed out of Todoroki's grip and collapsed on Bakugo, unable to take more than three steps in succession without running into something or falling over. He'd blinked, too drunk to see straight, and giggled.

 _"...Todorodoroki-kuuuun, ya gotta all muscle-yyyy s-so faaaaasst - I-I thought yaaa wereaa a atwiggy lil guyyy."_

Katsuki literally had not stopped laughing for thirty minutes. But on the plus side, Hitsugaya had settled on Bakugo, and after some careful prodding the explosive teenager had managed to get the intoxicated shinigami to curl up in his lap. He'd stayed put, cuddling with Katsuki for the rest of the night and purring like a kitten whenever someone stroked his hair. Then the alcohol had really started to hit him, and as the hilarious nonsense he was spouting began to slur into incoherence Katsuki had managed to slip the bottle of vodka away from him. From there it had been relatively simple for Bakugo to scoop the drunk boy up and put him on the couch, where Class 1-A had collectively tucked him under a blanket and coaxed him into sleeping.

That had also been when he'd lost control of his reiatsu, and as he'd fallen asleep he'd begun glowing faintly. Not even fifteen minutes later, a freak snowstorm had spawned, dumping a meter of snow on the ground.

"Of course, kero. I didn't know Hitsugaya-kun would be such a happy drunk. It doesn't seem to fit with his personality."

"Eh, really? He's always been kinda cuddly."

"Midoriya-chan, I'm fairly sure he's only 'cuddly' with you and Todoroki-kun."

"...who's cuddly?"

Izuku looked up to see a single, bloodshot eye fixed on him, the green iris and dark pupil unfocused and bleary. He couldn't help but smile wryly, reaching out to brush the thick white hair off Hitsugaya's golden face. Toushiro groaned, swallowing uncomfortably.

"You, when you're drunk. You act like a kitten, and it's one of the most adorable things I've ever seen."

"...fuckin' hell."

Toushiro groaned again, closing his eyes against the lights in the room, and Izuku very carefully slid a hand behind Hitsugaya's head, lifting gently. The young shinigami whimpered, eyes screwing tightly closed, and after a moment Izuku pulled the damp cloth down to rest over his friend's eyes. Then he reached for the cup of Gatorade at his side and carefully helped the hungover boy to drink. Toushiro downed the entire cup in a few seconds, a testament to his newfound alertness, and let Izuku lower his head to the pillow, obviously not feeling well.

"...what even happened last night?" Hitsugaya murmured, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets in an attempt to relieve the pressure undoubtedly building on the inside of his skull. Izuku chuckled lightly.

"Once the alcohol from those six shots you gulped down hit, you stole an entire bottle of vodka and started drinking it straight." Izuku kept a light scolding note in his voice, well aware that Hitsugaya couldn't see the grin on his face with the cool washcloth over his eyes. "And then you started saying the most hilarious things - you had us all in stitches even when we were trying to get the bottle away from you. Once you lost enough coordination to walk, you started throwing yourself at people to make them hold you. It turned into a lot of cuddling on your part. Then you absolutely _wrecked_ Todoroki without even meaning to, and ended up curled up on Kacchan. He's the one that managed to take the alcohol away from you and put you to bed."

"Bakugo did?"

Toushiro's cheeks were a lovely shade of rose-pink, but Izuku didn't know if it was from embarrassment or some side effect of the hangover. He couldn't help but laugh a little bit in spite of himself.

"Yeah, he held on to you for a record forty-five minutes. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that you made him laugh until he was crying, and that he figured out that stroking your hair makes you actually purr."

"...fucking _hell_."

"Also, there's about a meter of snow on the ground outside right now...and it's September in Tokyo-"

" _Fuck_."

* * *

 **And a sneak peek of next chapter will be given to the best review! (should they want it)**

 **Also, in response to the reviewer Nervix, since PMs don't work: OMG I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT. T.T this is why I need a beta T.T And very funny omake idea - 谢谢！ Hope you don't mind the direction it went in.**

 **Also...it was probably much too long to be an omake. I just really wanted to write some fluffy drunk!Hitsugaya. It might show up later in the actual story - I haven't decided yet.**


	15. Stand Up (For)

**A/N: Here's some Hitsu cleverness and some Endeavor bashing. Enjoy.**

 **Also, I now have a Tumblr account (username is avtorSola). I will be using this account to reblog writing tips I like, post about my original characters & stories, post concept art that I've drawn for said stories and for my fanfics, and generally do random things. But the important point is the fanart that's going to happen - I have a few pieces already in the works for Dragon Blade, so if any of you are interested, I'll put up a note when I post a fanart.**

* * *

The exam results were about what everyone expected, save for one single thing.

Yaoyorozu was only top of the class in one subject – Japanese Literature. In every single other written exam, she'd been beaten by none other than Hitsugaya. The white-haired teenager hadn't even seemed that surprised by the whole affair, though he had looked a bit annoyed when he'd seen that he was in fifth position on the Japanese Literature exam, narrowly squeezing past Katsuki to sit beneath Izuku, Iida, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu. Katsuki had been livid at that. And overall, Hitsugaya had aced the different written exams, stealing the spot at the top of class without even trying.

However, it seemed that due to his flashback interrupting his practical exam, the teachers had specially created a 'written-exam only' list, and it was there that he was top of the class. He'd been rather tactfully excluded from the overall list, which included the practical, and there Yaoyorozu reigned with Katsuki right behind her, Iida only a single point behind the explosive blonde.

But after that shock, the entire day was spent discussing the upcoming summer camp and the different items they'd need to bring, permission forms they'd have to fill out, and the activities they'd be doing while at camp. Ashido, Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and Sato were all overjoyed to learn that they would be allowed to attend the camp – less so to learn that they'd be taking remedial classes while they were there. Midoriya couldn't help feeling happy for them, though. He hadn't been looking forward to leaving them behind – Class 1-A just didn't feel complete without Ashido's bubbly persona or Kirishima's constant encouragement, or Kaminari's ridiculous antics.

However, much to everyone's surprise, Hitsugaya was given the option to stay back at the school instead of attending the summer camp. It made sense – Hitsugaya's second (or complete?) Quirk was still mostly an unknown, and it seemed to be fairly self-destructive. Aizawa's expression was perfectly neutral as he said this, folding his hands over the podium he usually spoke from. And for a moment, Hitsugaya had actually seemed to consider the offer, his white eyebrows knitting together on his forehead, eyes narrowing slightly. Midoriya had held his breath. He recognized that expression as the default appearance of Hitsugaya's calculating side, and the fact that the mysterious teenager was even thinking about the possibility of skipping the training camp was slightly upsetting. But finally the mop of soft white hair shook and Hitsugaya's expression became far less intense, settling into the usual masklike apathy.

"I will attend," He said decisively, his voice still unusually quiet. Aizawa had almost seemed to smile at that, then quickly moved on to other things.

By the time the day was coming to a close, they'd been inundated with information about the camp, including security precautions and the secrecy the entire exercise was being conducted with. They were to tell only their parents of this summer camp, and they shouldn't talk about it with the students from the general studies program, support program, or business program. Class 1-B would also be attending the camp, so they could talk to anyone from Class 1-B about it. And more stuff like that.

But just as they were finally let out for lunch, they were prevented from exiting the classroom by the arrival of an angry Nedzu, several policemen, Endeavor, and two men dressed in scrubs with white medical coats. Aizawa blinked as the policemen pushed past the shouting Nedzu into the room, then leveled a frightening glare at Endeavor that extinguished the flames on the hero's mask and made the entire entourage stop in their tracks.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aizawa said, his voice low and deadly. The commotion was appearing to also attract outsiders, and after a moment All Might walked into the room, looking slightly puzzled by Endeavor's presence alongside the policemen and doctors. Nedzu relaxed a little bit upon seeing All Might, which Midoriya thought was strange but rather telling. If All Might made the situation better, then somehow Endeavor must be responsible for it, especially since it wasn't like there were any villains around.

Endeavor's eyes narrowed to thin slits of blue.

"Typically it's standard procedure to hospitalize psychiatric patients once they start trying to kill other people, Eraserhead," Endeavor said coldly. Instantly Midoriya felt a chill run down his spine and before he knew exactly what he was doing he'd stood up, tenser than a drawn bowstring. So did Todoroki and much to everyone's surprise, Bakugo. Aizawa spared them a quick look, then turned back to Endeavor with outright hostility in his glare. The room suddenly became cold, and even All Might's trademark smile dropped in favor of a disapproving stare.

"Endeavor, you only met him once," All Might said, his voice unusually unforgiving, and as Midoriya watched in awe the policemen all flinched away, as did the doctors. "We've been working with him for three months now. You aren't qualified to decide this."

"Let him be, he won't listen. I've dealt with people like this before."

The voice was arctic, and simultaneously every eye in the room turned to Hitsugaya, who had clenched his fists so tightly his bandages had started to rip, an ominous shadow on his face. Slowly, the teenager stood up, a nasty smile playing on his lips. The little dragon on his shoulder dissolved into a wisp of white and drifted slowly back into his chest. One of the doctors took a hesitant step forward and held out a hand.

"Could you come here please, kiddo?" the man asked soothingly. Hitsugaya arched a white eyebrow and snorted disparagingly.

"I'm not an injured animal, so don't treat me like I'm one," he snapped sharply, causing the doctor to recoil. A sneer flashed across his golden face, a flicker of pain there, probably because he'd spoken too loudly. "Endeavor has obviously misreported this event to you, likely because his own inflated ego prevents him from psychologically allowing a mere teenager to have forced him on the defensive. I'd think that would make _him_ the delusional one."

There was a short silence, and then suddenly Todoroki let out a strangled grunt, clapping his hands over his mouth, mismatched eyes wide as he struggled to hold in laughter. Aizawa also looked like he was trying not to smile, and All Might's stern expression had melted back into his usual bright grin. Endeavor glared at his son and All Might, then turned a steely gaze on Hitsugaya.

"You tried to kill me, boy," the Flame Hero said roughly. "And were I anyone else, I'm sure you would have succeeded."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes – he actually _rolled his eyes_ , like a sarcastic teenager, and at that Midoriya had to fight back a laugh, because that smirking, condescending haughtiness was something he hadn't seen before and it was _hilarious_ when it was directed at the man who had caused Todoroki-kun so much heartache. A few giggles from Uraraka were also quickly stifled. The mood of the classroom was turning from horror to amusement, and Midoriya could see that it was having an effect on the policemen and the pair of doctors, making them doubt the legitimacy of Endeavor's claim. Suddenly he realized what was going on.

Hitsugaya was making them laugh _on purpose_. He was actually _manipulating_ the situation to make Endeavor look like a complete idiot, and it was working. It was working far too well. Izuku wasn't sure whether to be impressed or terrified.

"Don't be ridiculous – if I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead," Hitsugaya dismissed easily, a kind of suave arrogance rolling off him in waves. It was completely obvious to anyone watching that he knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, and was rather enjoying the cocky air he was putting on. "I know what triggered my flashback – your fire. If you had just _quit attacking me_ , I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have done anything. It's not my fault you didn't take the time to properly analyze your situation."

Endeavor's teeth audibly ground together but he stood his ground nonetheless and with his resolution the group with him appeared to gather their resolve as he did, but Hitsugaya was unfazed. Midoriya, however, had the inexplicable urge to shift himself in between the two doctors, the group of policemen – some of whom were now guarding the hallway – and Hitsugaya. He knew that Hitsugaya didn't deserve to be locked up in a psychiatric ward. It wouldn't help him. He was wound so tightly that being kept somewhere against his will could probably hurt him further. Being caged – even for his own good – would probably end him.

"Can you prove that you wouldn't have continued to attack?" Endeavor asked sharply. Hitsugaya smirked right back at the Flame Hero.

"Can you prove that I _would_ have continued to attack?" he countered slyly. "You may want to think of the precedent you set if you institutionalize me based on hypothetical situations. And consider for a moment that I am in the hero program, which has practical exercises involving Quirk usage on a weekly basis, and yet not a single episode of my PTSD flashbacks have been violent up until you launched an assault on me. Nedzu-sensei and Aizawa-sensei can corroborate this if you don't trust my sanity."

The mocking note in Hitsugaya's voice was blatantly spiteful, yet another reminder that the snow-capped teenager was thoroughly enjoying tearing apart Endeavor's argument. But just as it seemed that the Flame Hero was lost for words, the second of the two doctors stepped forward with a heavy sigh, gently moving his partner out of the way.

"Hitsugaya-san, at this point it's not about whether or not Endeavor-san provoked your response – it's that you responded so violently," the man explained gently. "Hospitalizing someone isn't something we do lightly. Now that there has been an incident, we at the very least have to do a psychiatric evaluation to determine whether or not it's safe for you to stay here."

Midoriya could almost taste the sudden chill that settled over Hitsugaya's svelte body and he shivered, nervous. That chill wasn't just fear – it was _anger_.

"Then I will warn you only once," Hitsugaya said icily, a storm flashing in those piercing emerald eyes. "If you try to force me into a mental asylum of any kind, I will _not_ come quietly."

Class 1-A froze, as did the policemen and the doctors. The threat in Hitsugaya's voice had been real and bitter and cold, full of suppressed malice and fury, and Izuku had to fight back the instinctive urge to cower away from that blatant hostility. But then he thought about it for a moment, about the paranoia that had been so obvious while the white-haired teenager had been eating dinner with him and his mom last night, about the obvious distrust that Hitsugaya displayed whenever a new person brushed past him. And something clicked in Izuku's head.

Hitsugaya wasn't angry, or hateful. Not really. He was using that to mask his own terror, using the projected fury to shield himself from the unknown of being locked in a psychiatric facility, of being trapped in a hospital, in a drugged stupor of any kind.

 _Recovery from torture and experimentation is not as easy as you'd think,_ Hitsugaya had said, _there_ are _things worse than death in this world_.

How long had he been trapped in that place – that place where he'd learned not to trust, not to relax? How long had he been living scared of having control stripped away from him, of being forced into situations he didn't want to be in, of being imprisoned and at another's mercy? How long had it been since he'd suffered the torture or experimentation that he'd alluded to yesterday?

And why wasn't anyone else putting those pieces together?

Suddenly the urge to run, the instinctive command to back away from his classmate went utterly silent, replaced only with a hard certainty and an overwhelming, utterly unfamiliar kind of annoyance. And without even a second to consider what he was doing he stepped protectively between Hitsugaya and the now serious-looking doctor. His fingers curled into his palms at his sides, and the chill of the snarling, defensive fury pouring from every cell in Hitsugaya's body cut off instantly.

"Leave Hitsugaya-kun alone," he said firmly. "Everyone gets angry and does things that they don't mean to sometimes. And since he lost control of his Quirk when he had the flashback, everything got out of hand. It's not a reason to put him in a box."

The doctor gave him a patient look tinged by exasperation and sighed, then stiffened as Todoroki also stepped forward, his glaring ferociously with that mismatched stare. The heterochromatic teenager growled under his breath.

"And of anyone in this room, the last person qualified to file a recommendation for psychiatric hospitalization or evaluation is Endeavor," the teenager said harshly, the disgust plain as day on his face. Endeavor's expression hardened.

"Shouto-"

"Shut up, you piece of shit father," Todoroki snapped back. "You already put Mom in a mental hospital – in more ways than one. I'm not letting you do it to Hitsugaya-kun as well."

There was a shocked silence for a long moment where everyone tried not to stare, and then the doctor sighed again.

"Kids, listen," he said, his voice taking on a firm edge. "Regardless of whether or not you think Hitsugaya-san needs to be cared for in a psychiatric ward or not, at this point the situation is out of our hands. A report was filed on a person with a known mental disorder, and while PTSD isn't usually a cause for hospitalization, the paperwork is all in place. We are legally required to at least evaluate his mental condition. If what you say is true, we won't find any reason to treat him in a hospital."

Midoriya felt a knot form in his chest, a knot of worry, but he forced himself to think. An evaluation could result in a clean bill of mental health, so it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But it could also be damning if Hitsugaya had a flashback during the conversation, or if the doctors were somehow influenced by someone who wanted Hitsugaya locked up for Hosu.

"Can we testify or something, then?" he asked finally, biting his lower lip. "I mean, Hitsugaya-kun has been in our class since late March, and he hasn't done _anything_ to warrant being taken away. And he came over to my house last night and was completely fine besides being jumpy and tense for the first hour or so, but from what I've read that's pretty standard for people suffering from PTSD. Even in class he's only had two real flashbacks, including the one yesterday with Endeavor-san, and the first one he left class for but we took care of it without too many problems."

The doctor's eyebrows shot up at that, but then he smiled and nodded kindly, a kind of deep-seated relief blossoming across his generic face.

"Of course, that would probably help a lot," the man replied. Then the entire class shot out of their seats, looking determined to contribute. The poor man blinked in surprise, then paled even further as Aizawa, Nedzu, and All Might also declared their intent to confirm Hitsugaya's ability to take care of himself. In the front of the room, Endeavor stared, the group of policemen standing nonchalantly at his side obviously growing bored, and after the two psychologists managed to set up a kind of interviewing list, they left, apologizing profusely to Nedzu for intruding on his campus. The mouse hero just nodded to them, his frown and whitening scar speaking more to his upset than anything else could, and they scurried off. Then, after stepping outside to speak with one of the two doctors, Nedzu turned to All Might.

"All Might, please escort Endeavor-san out of the building," the principal said cordially, completely ignoring Endeavor's presence in the back of the room. "And please inform him that the next time he has concerns about one of my students, I expect to be the first person he contacts."

The dismissal was all too clear, and as All Might gave a cheerful thumbs-up to a silent Hitsugaya and left the room with Endeavor in tow, Todoroki let out a huge sigh of relief. That relieved exhale was noted by one of the doctors as they came in to ask Uraraka outside for her testimony, and as the entire class was gradually called away for their small interviews, it became clear that their decision was already made even before they spoke to the teenager in question.

The entire process took about an hour, even though the individual interviews were fairly short, a fact which surprised Izuku to no end. He'd been expecting some kind of in-depth question-and-answer concerning Hitsugaya's behavior, when in reality most of the questions the pair of psychologists asked were simple yes-no questions like 'does Hitsugaya-san respond when you talk to him' and other silly, normal things like that. It was simplistic to the point that when Izuku walked back into the classroom and sat down that he let his head fall flat onto his desk with a loud thump. What on earth had Endeavor said to make these people think Hitsugaya needed to be treated in an actual hospital?

But of course, eventually the pair of psychologists came back into the room and smiled apologetically at Aizawa and Nedzu before turning to the still blank-faced Hitsugaya and waving.

"Hitsugaya-san, we'd like to speak with you now," the generic-faced man said, keeping his tone light. However, the way Hitsugaya immediately tensed up made it clear he still wasn't keen on the idea, still wary of the pair that could commit him to a white room and a locked door. The psychologists looked stuck for a moment, waiting patiently for the white-haired teenager to make a move, but he stayed lingering at the back of the classroom, watching them with narrowed eyes. Aizawa threw a sympathetic glance at the reluctant boy, then carefully stepped in.

"Would it be acceptable if I came with you three?" he asked, his tone slightly pointed. The two psychologists looked at each other, then at Hitsugaya, and the generic doctor shrugged his shoulders once.

"I will leave that up to Hitsugaya-san, since you are his teacher," the psychologist said agreeably. There was a long pause, and then Hitsugaya's chair scraped against the floor and he stood up, his lean body still tense.

"Aizawa-sensei…" his pain-softened voice trailed off. The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

"I'll have you know that I have been experiencing some temporary bouts of deafness lately, Hitsugaya-kun," he said then, surprising the rest of his students. "I can't promise you that I'll be able to hear what you're saying."

A slight smile twitched at the corners of Hitsugaya's pale mouth, his shoulders slumping down just a bit more as he started to relax.

"…I'm sorry to hear that, Aizawa-sensei."

The pro-hero shook his head and waited for Hitsugaya to walk forward before exiting the classroom behind the psychologists, Hitsugaya at his shoulder. The door shut behind them then, leaving the twenty students alone in the classroom with Nedzu. Almost immediately, and predictably, Katsuki exploded.

"What the fuck was that?" he snapped, slamming his hands down on top of his desk. "Why the fuck did that jackass report Snowy's fucking Quirk going out of control? Didn't he burn his own fucking house down when that happened to him?!"

Nedzu waved his paws from his position standing on top of the teachers' podium, gesturing for those members of the class who were still standing to take their seats once again. Slowly, everyone except Katsuki obeyed. The mouse-principal let out a huge sigh. It was obvious that he was upset by what had just happened.

"Prior to the exams yesterday, Endeavor-san was briefed on Hitsugaya-kun's background and PTSD symptoms. Much of the information we shared with him, while not strictly confidential, was the product of private conversations that I, Aizawa, and several of the other pro-heroes have had with Hitsugaya-kun. It was all information that he needed to properly assess Hitsugaya-kun's abilities," the mouse explained heavily. "Unfortunately, we are worried that Hitsugaya-kun may be a real threat to heroes and current society, more so against his will, but a threat all the same. In order to perhaps prevent that situation, we asked Endeavor to test his combat capabilities – I'm sure you all heard him identify that this was the underlying reason behind the incongruous structure of his final exam."

There was a smattering of incredulous nods from around the room. Iida raised his hand, dark blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

"So…you really were testing him for that reason, then?" The sunlight from outside glinted on the metal frame of the bookish boy's eyewear. Nedzu inclined his head once, a hint of a smile on his mousy face.

"Of course. It wasn't as if I meant to hide that from him, however – I must admit that his intelligence and strategic ability is rather frightening. I knew he would understand immediately what the purpose of his exam was." The mouse looked rather pleased by Hitsugaya's quick mind in spite of himself. "Yet his second Quirk combined with his PTSD in addition to the private information we shared seems to have created a very negative picture of Hitsugaya-kun in Endeavor's mind. Now, to be fair, if I were an outsider looking in, I would have likely made the same decision that Endeavor did. However, since Aizawa-sensei, the U.A. counselor, and I have been working closely with Hitsugaya-kun in order to help him develop coping mechanisms for his trauma, we know that making a report similar to the one Endeavor filed would be more harmful than helpful to Hitsugaya-kun's recovery."

Several of the students in the classroom frowned, puzzled by Endeavor's 'apparently reasonable' reaction and subsequently starting to worry for their classmate more than they had previously. After all, if Nedzu was admitting that the circumstances of Hitsugaya's trauma looked bad enough for hospitalization, then he'd obviously been through some absolutely awful things. It wasn't that they hadn't been informed of their classmate's trauma when they'd first been informed that the mysterious teenager was joining their class, but hearing that only made everything seem suddenly, painfully real.

Hitsugaya and Aizawa didn't come back to class until the bell rang to dismiss the entire school, almost a full three hours after they'd left the classroom. During that period of time, Midnight had swapped out for Nedzu so that the mouse could get back to his duties, and Class 1-A sat in relative silence while Midnight went over a brief review of everything they'd learned during the school year. They'd also attended the culmination ceremony, hosted by Nedzu, and witnessed the entire school's confusion when Nedzu – who was notoriously long-winded – cut the address relatively short. Only Class 1-A knew the reason why he'd done such a thing, and as they watched the mouse had scurried off, leaving the auditorium even before the students started to exit.

Hitsugaya and Aizawa were in the classroom when everyone came back, and Nedzu was with them. Aizawa had one hand resting lightly on Hitsugaya's shoulder, and the white-haired teenager had his head hanging low, hiding his face. But Izuku looked more closely, it became clear that the stiff rigidity of his body tight with anger rather than misery, the clenched fists and taut musculature of his arms beneath the white gauze betraying his hidden fury. The three looked up as the rest of the class walked into the room, and without even thinking Izuku took a step forward and opened his mouth, words spilling out. All he could think of was _distraction, quick, before he starts thinking too much about it when he's already upset._

"Hitsugaya-kun, Hagakure-san had an idea a little while ago that the entire class could go to the mall as a group and pick up things we need for the summer camp – would you want to come with us?" he asked, trying to keep any of the sympathetic heartache he felt out of his face. He didn't know if he was successful or not, but the corded muscle lining the lean edges of Hitsugaya's arms softened, releasing the tension on the bandaging, and his jaw unlocked. The emerald glint of that penetrating stare found Izuku's face.

Izuku's chest clamped up around his heart, stomach churning under that piercing glare, and for a split second he wanted to recoil. Then the spring wound tight in his chest uncoiled, the anxious fear disappearing the same way it had when he'd seen Hitsugaya come trudging back to the dorm building yesterday. So he just held that gaze, waiting for the response. Finally, he got a reply.

"…You're distracting me on purpose," Hitsugaya observed quietly, some thin barrier between them quivering in the air. Izuku felt the air leave his lungs in a powerful whoosh, and he could almost feel his classmates' pregnant silence behind him as they milled around pretending to gather their books and clean out their desks. But he held his ground. Something about this intimidation, about the effortless cloak of absolute authority that draped across Hitsugaya's lean shoulders, was starting to seem very thin. Izuku knew logically that his hands would be steady and that the room wouldn't feel quite so silent if it was true that Hitsugaya's innate ability to inspire fear and awe was – for some reason – ineffective against him.

Yet even though he was nervous – outright scared, even – he couldn't bring himself to lie to the white-haired teenager. He couldn't bring himself to leave the other boy alone, to let him suffer in silence, especially after he'd gotten so hilariously competitive at Monopoly last night and been so briefly relaxed. Hitsugaya didn't deserve to feel the constant paranoia and pressure of being alone. Something deep inside him refused not to reach out and offer help to someone who so obviously would be doing better with it.

"Yes," Izuku replied finally, shuffling his feet, but he didn't let himself break eye contact, forcibly scolding himself with every suppressed flinch or anxious quaver. "Uh…it seems to take your mind off whatever upsets you, so…"

His voice trailed off, but before he really knew what was happening he saw the twitch, the slight tilt of the white head, the gradual warmth curling around the edges of Hitsugaya's handsome face melting that icy wall.

"You stood up for me." Hitsugaya's voice melted into something even softer. There was warmth, confusion and aching sadness present there. "Argued with Endeavor and the police for me. You and Todoroki-san and everyone else testified for me."

Izuku didn't really know what to say to that, so he just went a little bit pink in the face and finally dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Uh-uh…yeah, I guess I did…er, I guess we did…" he mumbled, suddenly unsure of where Hitsugaya was trying to go with the conversation. "I-I mean, you were doing completely fine on your own! You didn't need me butting in or anything, I just kind of felt like I _had_ to, and-"

He cut himself off as Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow.

"I was doing fine on my own?"

There was a twitch at the corner of Hitsugaya's mouth, his head tipped to the side still. The white-haired teenager clasped his hands together behind his back, a white brow still arched in what _had_ to be mock surprise. Izuku swallowed.

"Um, w-well, you were doing a pretty good job of making Endeavour-san look stupid," Izuku said a bit nervously. "…I-if you hadn't been faking the sarcasm just to make us laugh, you'd be pretty savage. It was funny."

And suddenly something cracked. The twitch on Hitsugaya's lips stopped, the curl of his cheek setting in place, and suddenly the white-haired teenager was staring with a lopsided little smile on his face. Izuku's eyes widened at the sight, turning just a bit pink around the edges. A soft gasp echoed in the room behind him, but he couldn't turn his head to see who that voice belonged to.

Hitsugaya was smiling. _Actually_ smiling, not smirking or sneering, or forcing his mouth to turn up with that slightly-sour amusement of his. This was the real thing, a real, hesitant smile from a teenager who looked like he didn't even know what his mouth was doing. Izuku found his heart melting through his insides, the taste of sugar suddenly on his tongue. It was a sweet smile. A sweet smile in the way that laughter and honest cheer was sweet, a bright kind of sweetness that just came from someone feeling happy for no real reason. And yet there was something that matured his face, something that tempered that sweetness with experience.

As the smile dropped from Hitsugaya's face – in a burst, like he'd just realized that his mouth had curled without permission – Izuku finally put his finger on that other element. Or rather, _those_ other elements. Grief. And loneliness. Both aching, hollow emotions that made smiling difficult. Izuku knew that from experience. And yet Hitsugaya finally had managed to show one, finally felt enough happiness to let a little piece of it show on his face.

And _damn_ if that smile didn't make Hitsugaya's already striking face just about glow. Izuku suddenly felt very plain in comparison – at this rate, the white-haired teenager would be able to snag any girl – or guy, if he preferred guys – in the school that he fancied.

But as quick as it had come, it vanished, and Hitsugaya shook his head with a loud sigh. He was relaxing now, just enough to make it obvious that his fists weren't clenched and his stance wasn't tense, wasn't ready to run and fight.

"I'll come as long as either you or Todoroki-san are going."

 _Oh._

It had meant something – that instinctive urge to stand and step between the doctors and Hitsugaya, to argue for him regardless of the fact that he was arguing with Endeavor by proxy. Hitsugaya had been taken by that action somehow, touched by it in a way that Izuku didn't completely understand. That was just what friends did for each other, right?

Izuku felt his throat close up then, suddenly understanding. This is the reaction he would have had if someone – _anyone_ – had stood up for him in middle school, when he'd been alone and friendless. This would have been his reaction the first time that anyone had spoken up on his behalf. And it was written all over Hitsugaya's blank face.

He smiled at the other teenager, trying to keep the cheer on his face within reasonable bounds. It was proving difficult.

"R-really? W-wow, I thought you would have had to think about it a little more…" Izuku rambled, talking a mile a minute even though it was very unnecessary. "B-but that's awesome! I don't know if Todoroki-kun is going to end up coming with us, but I'm definitely going, and if you need an adult to come with because of the Hosu incident I'm sure my mom won't mind since she's been talking about you since yesterday…"

He paused when Hitsugaya's smile started to creep uncertainly back onto the golden cheeks.

"Midoriya, you're a chatterbox," Hitsugaya's lips twitched spasmodically, unable to be fully deadpan but quite obviously trying his absolute hardest to remain stoic. "And quit stuttering already – there's no reason to be nervous."

"U-uh…Okay." Izuku almost felt like he should be insulted by the sharp remark, but when he looked a bit closer the stilted, painfully awkward inflection in Hitsugaya's voice became remarkably clear. He bit his lip.

"…Was today the first time your classmates have ever stood up for you like that, Hitsugaya-kun?"

There was a short pause. Aizawa and Nedzu, who had remained silent throughout most of the conversation, exchanged a quick look with each other, and then Nedzu turned around to fully face Izuku, opening his mouth as if he was about to answer. But the principal was interrupted by a soft question.

"…How could you tell?"

Hitsugaya's brows were knitted together, his voice quiet. The bridge of his nose was wrinkled, as if he was holding back some cry of pain. Izuku took a deep breath.

"I know the feeling – it's a little bit overwhelming when it happens," he confessed, watching Hitsugaya's emerald stare widen just a bit, the dark pupils dilating to saucers. "People used to think I was Quirkless, so I was picked on all through elementary and middle school. Then I came here and everything got a lot better."

Hitsugaya was quiet for a while, his gaze glazing over just a hint. Izuku shook himself, brain kicking into high gear, and he reached out and set a hand on Hitsugaya's shoulder without thinking about what he was doing. The white-haired boy startled a little bit at the touch, broken from his thoughts. He'd done the same thing last night too.

"So, we're all meeting at the Baihana plaza at ten o'clock tomorrow – I can stop by here first to show you how to get there by subway, so I'll show up around 9:30, if that works for you?"

Hitsugaya stared. He bit his lower lip, a move that Izuku recognized as vaguely familiar.

"Yes. And Midoriya, thank you."

Another thank you? That made two, including the one from yesterday. Izuku shook his head and smiled widely, putting as much heart as he could into that one expression.

"Don't be silly, that's what friends do," he asserted. "Now come on, you still need to clean out your desk."

The lean muscle underneath his fingertips softened as Hitsugaya dropped his rigid posture. Hitsugaya sighed in resignation, but took a step and followed along when Izuku started walking. And Izuku couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness, because of all the things he'd accomplished at U.A. one of the greatest things he'd ever done was make Hitsugaya finally, _finally_ crack a smile.

* * *

 **YAY, Class 1-A is bonding! A few more fluffy chapters like these, and then there's a fight scene. (please someone kill me, fight scenes are so hard T.T)**


	16. Encounter

**A/N: And here we have character development with a heavy dose of plot!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The sound of Hyourinmaru's purring was starting to put him to sleep, which was probably a bad thing considering that Midoriya would show up any minute. He had used his Quirk and the little bit of Hyourinmaru's reiatsu in tandem to again materialize Hyourinmaru in miniaturized version of the strange physical form that had apparently done so much damage during the final exam. And it would be this little version of Hyourinmaru that he'd be taking with him. Unfortunately, early on in the school year, Nedzu had very, very gently explained to him that while he would be allowed to wear his Zanpakutou in school in order to accommodate his paranoia, the same could not be said when he left campus. A hero license of some kind was required to carry a weapon around in public spaces.

Of course, a simple 'Bakudo no Nijuuroku, Kyokko,' would have concealed Hyourinmaru from the humans' sight and allowed him to still take the blade with him, but that would have aroused suspicion. He would have inevitably been more comfortable with Hyourinmaru on his back, and people would have started wondering why he was so at ease without his blade.

Now, however, he had found a happy medium in Hyourinmaru's ability to manifest without reaching for the reserves of power he kept stored up for his Bankai – even if it did stress his spirit core a little bit. As long as Hyourinmaru kept in contact with his skin and stayed small, the strain was a negligible disadvantage.

The small room echoed with the distinctive tapping of a nervous knock, and Hitsugaya sighed with resignation. Then he rolled off his bed and stretched, popping his back. Midoriya's reiatsu hovered right outside his door, flickering with anxiety, the teenager's mind probably racing at about three-hundred kilometers a second.

He had to admit that Midoriya had the kind of analytical mindset that would make him a dangerous fighter one day, or someone skilled at the art of manipulation, but he lacked even the barest ounce of confidence unless he was acting on someone else's behalf. It was frustrating, if Hitsugaya was honest with himself – the green-haired teenager reminded him far too much of Hinamori, and the lack of self-esteem hit much too close to home. But Midoriya did have one thing that Hinamori had always seemed to lack, and that was a backbone – one that would magically appear when he seemed to need it.

He answered the door, sliding it open to admit the freckled teenager with a practiced stare of flat disbelief. When would Midoriya learn to stand up for himself?

"You're always so timid," he groaned, making his annoyance clear. "You can knock louder, you know."

Midoriya went rigid and Toushiro brushed past him with an eye roll, carefully locking the door behind him. There was a brief pause as Hitsugaya took a few steps away, the green-haired boy standing frozen. Then Midoriya turned around.

"Y-you don't have to be rude, Hitsugaya-kun," the green-haired boy called after his retreating back. Toushiro paused, then glanced back over his shoulder to see a quiet sort of anger on Midoriya's face. The human boy's t-shirt fluttered as he turned more fully to face the waiting shinigami. "I was…"

Hitsugaya said nothing, waiting patiently for the teenager to finish his thought, but it appeared to fizzle out and Midoriya's shoulders slumped in resignation. Toushiro had to bite back a snarl of frustration.

"You were what?" he prompted, dropping a mocking tone into his voice. Midoriya's mutated reiatsu flared in sudden upset.

"What is your _problem_ today?" Midoriya finally huffed, obviously fed up, and Toushiro couldn't stop the smirk of approval from flickering over his face. The freckled teenager saw it too, his nose screwing up in irritation. "Just because I don't immediately start yelling at people when they say things I don't like, it doesn't mean I'm timid!"

Hitsugaya turned now, fully facing the upset teenager with that same smirk on his lips.

"No, it doesn't – you're no Bakugo, and thank goodness for that," he agreed casually, startling Midoriya. "But that's the first time I've ever heard you raise your voice, and the first time that you haven't stuttered when you're talking to me – when you're not offering me your metaphorical shoulder, that is."

Midoriya cocked his head to the side, a frustrated squint coming to his eyes, and Hitsugaya just waited. He knew that Midoriya's analytical ability would soon piece together the little bits of his behavior in the correct order. And as he watched, the green-clad shoulders slumped in realization.

"You did the manipulative thing again – manipulated me into getting annoyed," Midoriya said, still just a touch cross. Hitsugaya let the approving smirk grow by a few teeth.

"Of course." He stroked Hyourinmaru's scaly head almost absently. "You seem to associate Bakugo-san with confidence and then behave in the opposite manner, which is rather unfortunate, so I thought I should bring out your own confidence on its own."

Midoriya took a few steps forward, and Hitsugaya easily fell into place at the green-haired boy's side, following the teenager from the dorm and across campus to the exit. The teenaged hero-in-training seemed to be thinking over what he'd said. Hitsugaya watched him from the corner of his eye, passively observing the people rushing around on the Tokyo sidewalks.

"…Why is it so bad that I'm different from Kacchan?" the boy asked then, a bit quietly. Hitsugaya shook his head, sidestepping an old woman walking a fluffy poodle.

"It's not bad," he asserted. If this didn't feel like mentoring an unseated officer then he didn't know what did. "It's just that you seem to interpret Bakugo-san's aggressiveness and his slightly-arrogant bragging as confidence when it is not. For instance, you allowed Bakugo-san to interrupt you when you invited me over to your house two days ago, and on top of that allowed him to just tell me what I was going to do even though it was clear from the number of arguments you were forming that you weren't going to let me refuse."

Midoriya's brow furrowed as they got on the escalator going down into the metro station, their metro cards at the ready. He scanned his in the card reader first, then waited on the other side of the turnstile for Hitsugaya to follow.

"…You're saying I allowed him to take over?"

Hitsugaya shrugged nonchalantly, mindful of the little dragon snoozing on his shoulders. They stepped into the train car, Izuku double-checking the metro's map to make sure they were going the same way, and sat down on plastic seats across from each other.

"You could say that," the shinigami replied. "My point is more that your methods are different, and I want you to consider whether or not you would have just told me that you wouldn't take no for an answer if it hadn't subconsciously seemed like something Bakugo-san would say."

Midoriya stiffened in surprise, and Hitsugaya's white eyebrows lowered over his eyes as he watched the other teenager think about what he'd said.

"Midoriya, you've got a hell of a backbone in you – I can see it whenever you're acting on someone else's behalf." Hitsugaya's words carried even through the relative noise of the metro train. "There aren't many people who can hold my gaze when I'm trying to intimidate them into silence, like I was trying to do to you in class yesterday. But I can tell that you're almost afraid of standing up for yourself, and that honestly befuddles me."

Midoriya let out a quick giggle, smiling that sunny smile of his.

"…Befuddles?"

Hitsugaya went a bit red in the face at Izuku's amusement, feeling mildly insulted.

"Oi, don't you criticize my word choice," he groused. Midoriya shook his head.

"I did better in Japanese Literature than you – I think that entitles me to criticize if I want," he said with another giggle, then froze and quickly waved his hands in front of his face. "Not that you did poorly though. Fifth position is still-"

"Midoriya, this is what I'm talking about." Hitsugaya's lips twitched slightly as he cut the rambling boy off. "Everything like that you say is apologetic when it doesn't have to be. You shouldn't be afraid of hurting me – or anyone else – with your words or actions. Anyone who knows you would realize that you were teasing. And if you do end up hurting someone by mistake, I think you'd without a doubt be humble enough to get down on your knees and beg forgiveness."

The metro train rolled to a stop and Midoriya stood, leading Hitsugaya through the crowd of people until they exited the metro station and stepped into the mall proper. The area was bustling with people, and Hitsugaya instinctively swept around the entire area, searching for Hollow reiatsu. None materialized – only the dull sparks of human reiatsu and the brighter flame that resided in Midoriya. Another moment passed in silence as the pair wound their way to the main floor of the mall, where all of Class 1-A had agreed to meet up.

"Hitsugaya-kun?"

Toushiro hummed in reply, making the other boy aware of his attention. There was a sigh.

"What brought this on? It's a kind of weird topic, talking so bluntly about how you think I'm not confident," Midoriya asked, his tone both curious and contemplative. Hitsugaya glanced at the freckled teenager out of the corner of his eye, the thoughtful expression on the other boy's face reassuring him that Midoriya was at least considering the points he'd made earlier.

It was a good question. Why _had_ he felt the urge to bring this up – to coach Midoriya through seeing his own passivity? Hyourinmaru purred on his shoulder, flicking his earlobe with a chilly tongue in mild reproach. Hitsugaya sighed and caved, finally admitting it to himself.

"My sister never learned to stand on her own two feet, and it destroyed her," he revealed finally. A slight weight fell from his shoulders as he said that, a lingering melancholy replacing the aching grief for a short while. "She always relied on others to determine her worth, always bowed to another's will and refused to think for herself; refused to stand up for herself. And you smile the same way she did, have the same capability of genuine kindness that she did. I don't want to see that lost a second time."

Then he shook himself out of the sad nostalgia, firmly sealing Hinamori and her eternal depression in a locked box inside his head.

"Furthermore, you are helping me, and as you said earlier, that is what friends are for. I believed it would be appropriate to return the favor," he asserted, fully aware that he was developing a tentative trust with the green-haired teenager. It was terrifying. But also strangely pleasant. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Being friends with Matsumoto and Kurosaki and the other captains (to some extent) was one thing – they'd back off if he snapped at them, though Kurosaki might also require a blast of his ice, the pigheaded idiot. But Midoriya…he wasn't sure if this boy would be the same. After all, he'd managed to meet his 'Captain-glare' with barely a flinch.

Midoriya's face lit up, that blinding sunny smile once again knocking the wind from Hitsugaya's lungs.

"I'm glad you consider me a friend, Hitsugaya-kun!" he bubbled cheerfully. Then he brightened up _even more_ – seriously, was it even possible for a human to _radiate sunlight_ like that? – and ran forward. He'd spotted Uraraka and a few of the other students, milling around a sweets-stand. Hitsugaya, his hand caught by the now-exuberant teenager, was unwittingly dragged forward, protesting futilely.

Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Uraraka waved at them as they approached, catching Kaminari and Kouda's attention as they came closer. Kouda bounced excitedly at the sight of the little dragon sitting on Hitsugaya's shoulder again, creeping few steps closer to better observe the small version of Hyourinmaru. Midoriya leapt quickly into conversation with the others, falling comfortably into the circle that had formed. Toushiro hovered just a step behind him, lingering on the outside of the circle of chatting teenagers while Kouda marveled over the small dragon sitting on his shoulder.

He offered Kouda an attempt at a neutral nod of greeting, then started back when the quiet boy smiled, his stone-like face curving naturally into a pleasant expression that Hitsugaya was sure he couldn't match.

"…What is your dragon's name, Hitsugaya-kun?"

Double take. Toushiro shook himself, eyes widening in surprise.

"…Come again?"

Kouda repeated himself, speaking at a perfectly normal volume and tone, and Toushiro had to quickly pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't having another extremely vivid dream.

"You can talk normally?" he asked, curious in spite of himself, and the sweet-natured animal-lover nodded, reverting to his usual quietness. Hitsugaya cocked his head to the side, the collar of his white short-sleeve button-down tickling at his jawline, then nodded in appreciation. If Kouda preferred to be silent, well, at least it was good to know that the boy _could_ speak when he wanted to.

"This is Hyourinmaru," he said, introducing the small version of his Zanpakutou spirit. The dragon gave a cheery little purr in greeting, and Kouda's cheeks turned pink in blushing happiness, enthralled by the small reptile. Toushiro stood still, patiently allowing the quiet boy to watch as Hyourinmaru yawned and bobbed his head around for Kouda's amusement.

It didn't take long before a few of the other students also showed up, trickling in one at a time or in groups of two or three. Bakugo arrived with Kirishima (no surprise there), Tokoyami trailing them at a distance, and Ashido, Hagakure, and Jiro were followed by a scurrying Mineta. But before long everyone had showed up, chatting amongst themselves in small pockets as they gradually clustered together. Then, as they all discussed what they'd need for the upcoming trip, they decided to split up into groups and hunt down their individual purchases based on who else need to shop at stores close by. However, before anyone left, Iida loudly reminded the entire group that regardless of their success on their mission to find the necessary supplies, they were to meet in the mall's food court at 1 o'clock to eat lunch together.

And then they scattered, so quickly that Hitsugaya could barely get a lock on everyone's reiatsu before they disappeared into the throng of civilian shoppers and their families. Izuku, himself, and a suddenly flustered-looking Uraraka were left alone by the sweets-seller, and for a moment, things were awkward while all three of them tried to figure out what to do. Thankfully, Uraraka broke the silence with a loud, cheery exclamation, pulling out her phone as if checking a text message.

"AH, I need bug spray!" she yelped. "Uh, Hitsugaya-kun, come with me please! Bye Deku-kun!"

"Uraraka-san!"

His body lurched as the small pads on all five of her fingers made contact with his wrist, instantly making him weightless for just the moment she needed to tug him away into the crowd. He was so startled by the momentary exercise of her Quirk – in a public place, no less – that he didn't take the split second he'd need to gather reishi to stand on. But before he knew it his weight came rushing back and he was being tugged through the throng of people and up a nearby escalator. For a moment he found himself very annoyed, but the moment faded.

Uraraka wasn't one to behave so erratically for no reason. He knew very well that the brunette girl was still a bit wary of him, especially since she had found out about the Hosu incident. So for her to abruptly flee and drag him along, well, obviously something wasn't quite right with her. He followed her quietly off the escalator, his wrist still trapped between her fingers, and sighed in resignation as he sensed Yaoyorozu and Ashido approach, leaving a group of a probably-surly Bakugou, Kirishima, and Sero standing by one of the mall's indoor gardens. So maybe she really had been checking her texts when she'd panicked and grabbed him.

"Ochako-chan, bring him over here!" Ashido called out, waving her hands vigorously above her head, and Hitsugaya just tried to suppress an eye roll and the reflexive disdain that always accompanied Matsumoto-ish plans like this. The waxed floor tiles didn't offer much traction for him to resist her pull anyway. The two girls bubbled cheerfully as Uraraka gave him a push forward, and Yaoyorozu clasped her hands in front of her.

"Hitsugaya-san, this may be a little forward of me, but I have to ask – how many sets of clothing, besides the school uniforms, do you actually have?" she inquired politely, leaving Ashido suddenly silent. He was quiet for a minute, already understanding what the purpose of the question was and unsure if he really wanted to respond. Finally, as Ashido and Uraraka darted off in different directions, citing things that they needed to buy, he let out a long breath, trying to feel grateful for the implied assistance but only finding insult and anger.

"…I have enough," he bit out finally. He kicked at the linoleum with a hint of aimless annoyance, trying hard to swallow it long enough to give the girl a proper answer. "Enough to last a week."

Yaoyorozu didn't really look put out by his curt answer, but she couldn't hide the quick flash of hurt that passed across her soft cheeks. Her wild ponytail fluffed airily as she wrapped her arms around the base of her blouse.

"…If it's alright with you, Hitsugaya-san, I'd like to double that," she offered then, the very thing he was dreading. "I…I've already spoken to my parents, and they agree that it's quite alright for me to spend some of our money on you, since we have more than we know what to do with-"

"Hatchling, if you get any more upset for no reason, you're going to start a lightning storm in your inner plane, and you _know_ I find those unpleasant."

Yaoyorozu yelped, and Hitsugaya even jumped a little bit at the unexpected voice in his ear, utterly unfamiliar with Hyourinmaru's doubled tone when he was Quirk-materialized. Then he paused, comprehending what the powerful creature had said.

"…I can't help it," he replied. The dragon huffed.

"I know, little one, but try for her sake and mine," the reptile scolded. Then his luminous red eyes turned on Yaoyorozu, and he puffed a bit of icy mist out of his slitted nostrils, bobbing his head in cheery greeting before settling back down on his master's lean shoulder. The studious girl gaped at the little dragon in shock and awe, then laughed a little bit, peering closer at the small manifestation while still keeping a respectful distance.

"Tokoyami-kun's Dark Shadow doesn't talk around other people at all – I barely knew possession-type Quirks could speak!" she exclaimed, then looked up, eyes shining. "But anyway…"

Toushiro took a deep calming breath and carefully evalutated the annoyance and upset he was feeling at being offered what felt like pity, trying to set aside his anger for solid facts. The crux of the entire question was this – _did he need other clothes_? And the answer was very simple. Yes, he did.

Sure, he had a few things which All Might and some of the other teachers had bought for him – three months ago by this point, wow – but he had one pair of jeans. Two pairs of shoes: a pair of school shoes, the white ones, and the grey sneakers he was currently wearing. A few pairs of cloth pants, decent enough to work out in but not much else. He had the single white button down he was currently wearing and a few t-shirts. But aside from these things, he didn't have anything else, and while he could make that last a week, even he had to admit that it wasn't much.

Besides, since he still couldn't figure out how to contact Seireitei or get home, it wasn't as if he was going anywhere any time soon. He may as well settle in for the long haul.

"I don't like it when people pity me, Yaoyorozu-san." It was hard to swallow around the lump of pride and reluctance stuck crossways in his throat. The girl went a bit pink in the face, growing flustered, and dropped her gaze.

"Oh- No, this isn't pity, Hitsugaya-san," she protested, but before she could get any more words out, Hitsugaya stiffened, the dull spark of human reiatsu quickly approaching from his blind spot sending a thrill of split-second fear rippling down his spine. For half a moment he could feel Giselle's shadow falling over him, darkening the sky, the iron scent of blood in the air-

 _Not real not real not real- Focus! I won't let myself hurt anyone else again._

"Yaoyorozu-san," he choked, even as the world was blurring – _He could taste blood in his mouth_ – and reality started to waver around him. He wheezed painfully. "Talk to me."

"A-ah, Hitsugaya-san…Well, I suppose I am rather practiced in the art of small talk. My parents insisted that I become accomplished in a wide variety of things, including etiquette. Was there anything in particular that you wanted to discuss?"

Her voice was working, anchoring his thoughts in the present as concrete pressed against his cheek and Giselle's shadow chilled his broken frame. He clung to that sound, trying to break from the nonsensical hallucinations and sensations that weren't real.

"Distract me, please." He gasped for breath, air whistling through his lungs but when Giselle, the scent of her blood and the steady tang of salty iron in his mouth not fading, didn't react to his words he could feel the image start to crack apart.

 _Focus. Breathe slow, hold for three. One, two, three…and out, just like with Aizawa-sensei. It's not real. Not real. Alright. Breathe again._

"Distract- oh, okay, um…Actually, I've never really asked you this, but how did you study for tests the entire year? I thought it was incredible when you reached the top of the class after only three months with us," she said, and he blinked hard, trying to clear the Quincy's face from his sight, still counting every breath. Giselle began to fade, revealing a concerned-looking Yaoyorozu and a furious-looking Bakugo – he'd been the reiatsu approaching from behind.

Working, it was working. He was okay, it wasn't real, and he needed to breathe, to use the coping mechanisms he'd been practicing. He took another shuddering, calming breath and held it again, the hum of his pulse gradually dropping into a rapid thrum.

"I don't study," he rasped out finally, her face coming into greater focus as Giselle and the stench of his own charred flesh faded from the atmosphere. The adrenaline pulsing through his bloodstream was making him feel lightheaded, and he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get his heart rate to drop back under control, still too jittery to relax fully. "…my memory is eidetic, and photographic on top of that."

A snort echoed at the back of Bakugo's throat, and the blonde teenager stuck his hands into his pockets.

"No wonder you're so fucking useless every time you think about the shit you've gone through," the blonde spat. Toushiro felt a sudden surge of mixed anger and guilt rush through him in a wave of boiling energy, and the tile squeaked as he shifted to glare at the explosive teenager, every muscle in his body pulling tight against his bones with taut fury. Yaoyorozu protested, anger on Hitsugaya's behalf passing over her face, but Katsuki just gritted his teeth.

"Shut up, rich girl," he barked. "Now listen here, Snowy. Whenever the fuck you get your act together, shut your stupid mouth and let the rich girl buy you whatever goddamn shit she wants to buy you. She's got to spend her money on something, and if she wants to spend it on a loser like you, that's her fucking loss."

Hitsugaya's emerald glare narrowed, the second comment less galling than the first.

"If I was useless, you would have been killed by that monster at the Sports Festival," he snapped back, trying to quell the lick of reiatsu that wanted to flare from his skin. Bakugo's scarlet glare tightened, a scowl crossing that moody face.

"Touched a fucking nerve, did I?" he snarled back. "Hate to break it to you, shithead, but maybe if you weren't such a damn coward, you wouldn't be so fucking pathetic every time you remembered something you don't want to remember."

 _Coward…?_

Before Hitsugaya knew exactly what he was doing, he'd lunged, gripping Bakugo by the collar of his shirt and easily tugging the human boy onto his toes. Coward, pathetic – who the hell did this arrogant human shit think he was? The blonde choked a bit, then snarled.

"Put me the fuck down, moron. If you wanna fight we can go back to my house after this and I'll pound your pathetic ass into the ground, but I'm not trying to get fucking arrested," he sneered. Hitsugaya could feel the blood rushing in his head, fury boiling in his veins like lava, anger cracking through him like a thunderclap. But people were staring, a mother and her two young kids gently pressing her children behind her, a policeman starting towards them, and so he took a deep breath and dropped Bakugo. Yaoyorozu let out a sigh of relief as the blonde straightened up and walked away, back over to a stunned Kirishima and Sero.

And then Hitsugaya realized.

The anger he'd felt – the rush of rage that he'd felt on this fifteen-year-old brat calling him _useless_ – it had broken through the haze of memory and adrenaline and terrifyingly physical panic that he'd been trapped in. The anger had supplanted his fight-or-flight response, channeling that adrenaline rush into something more manageable. Katsuki had deliberately provoked him, and deliberately talked down to him so anger could push him out of the rush of false sensations.

"…Bakugo-san," he called, and the other boy paused and looked over his shoulder, face twisted into an unpleasant snarl. Toushiro let out a long sigh. "…You make a very effective distraction."

The blonde went a touch red around the edges, obviously not expecting to be called out, and let out a small click of annoyance before stomping off. Hitsugaya tried not to smirk at the display.

"Go to hell, shitty nerd!"

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and turned back around to face Yaoyorozu, who was staring after Bakugo with some exasperation. Then she sighed in resignation.

"He has his own way of doing things, I suppose," the girl said. Hitsugaya couldn't help but agree. "Is it alright if I buy you some clothes, Hitsugaya-san?"

He let out a long breath, the icy puff of air like smoke in front of his mouth despite the warmth of the mall and the humid summer day outside. Then he swallowed his pride and nodded. Yaoyorozu smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Hitsugaya-san," she replied gratefully, "…now, do you have a particular style you like, or…"

* * *

He'd been dreading it, but having Yaoyorozu-san walk around the mall with him as she helped expand his wardrobe wasn't actually terrible. Despite the physical similarities to his lieutenant, her personality was much less grating, and her academic side was a pleasant relief during conversation, her sheer knowledge of molecular chemistry far beyond what any other fifteen-year-old had. They'd had a very nice string of conversations about chemical reactions and the possibility of plasma reactors as power plants, among other things, and the intellectual stimulation was absolutely heavenly. Plus, after determining that he wasn't exactly one to gravitate toward style beyond looking put together and mature, Yaoyorozu decided she'd offer advice. Not force him into outfits, like Matsumoto or Hinamori would have done, but _offer advice._ Bless her soul.

He ended up walking away with another week's worth of clothing, all easily paired together in terms of choosing outfits, and though he protested, the girl didn't let him pay for a dime. And then, of course, she revealed that her parents actually _owned_ half of the stores she'd taken him to, so all she was really doing was helping her parents give their employees a raise. For a long minute, he hadn't known how to respond to that, but ended up stammering out a thank-you anyhow, floored by her apparent wealth. After that, he walked around with her as she bought various little knickknacks for the camp, including a pocket flashlight with a hand-rechargeable battery.

But then Midoriya's reiatsu shuddered in fear, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Yaoyorozu kept walking for a minute, then paused and turned back to him, blinking in confusion. She'd been paying very close attention to his moods since his near-flashback – which he was very relieved that he'd managed to cope with – and Bakugo's intervention, and it was obvious that his abrupt pause had unnerved her. He swallowed, quickly making a mental map of where all of the students were. Then he spun and sprinted for the escalator, leaving Yaoyorozu to run after him.

Even human reiatsu could leak malice if the person was cruel enough, and whoever was sitting next to Midoriya had made the teenager's very soul react with fear. That meant one of two things. Either an Arrancar had disguised itself as a human and was failing to keep the dark impurity hidden in their soul, or there was a very evil person sitting next to the green-headed boy.

And even though he couldn't use his shinigami abilities for combat against humans in this new dimension for fear of accidentally infusing them with traces of his reiatsu the way Kurosaki had influenced his own friends, there was no law against dishing out a traditional hand-to-hand beatdown. And, well, he couldn't exactly help the fact that he was stronger, faster, and more impervious to pain than regular humans, now could he?

He let himself sprint at full pace, the superior shinigami agility allowing him to dodge around startled shoppers with immense grace. Yaoyorozu fell behind in moments, puffing with exertion as she struggled to keep him in her sights, and he felt a pang of temporary apology for leaving her behind so suddenly. But he could sense Uraraka heading back towards where Midoriya was sitting and he knew that the situation was quickly becoming more complex. He had to get there quickly.

A little girl with wide blue eyes screeched in surprise as he breezed past, her dark hair blowing in the gust caused by his passage, but then he could see Midoriya, a hooded man in dark clothing sitting next to him, four fingers wrapped tightly around the teenager's throat and getting tighter by the second. Anger shot through him, his battle-sense instantly exploding to the forefront of his mind and he could himself entering the hyperaware, utterly logical state that had always made him so dangerous in battle. He took another bounding step, analyzing and calculating possible options and courses of action for every variable he could think of, then remembered exactly where he was and what he was posing as.

He broke from the crowd; made eye conact with Izuku. The man next to him looked up, face cracked and peeling.

"Get away from Midoriya!" he howled, command bleeding into his voice, the deathly aura woven into every fiber of his being released in full, terrifying force, and he could feel it when the prickling wave of his marginal release of battle-ready reiatsu made every human within a fifty-meter radius flinch. The shout instantly drew attention, the policemen stationed at intervals around the mall already on guard due to the furious edge in the creeping winter chill he'd allowed to leak. But then the man next to Midoriya, obviously caught entirely off guard by Hitsugaya's sudden appearance, stood up, one finger twitching over Midoriya's neck. Hitsugaya's focus zoomed in on that.

Four fingers choking, one conspicuously out of place. Likely a destructive Quirk activated the same way that Uraraka's was, and a strong one if Izuku's stillness meant anything. Effective way to take a hostage.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had friends here!" the creaky-faced man exclaimed then, and he let go of Midoriya's neck. The boy sat back down heavily, coughing and choking, gasping for breath but unable to slow his ragged breathing. The dark-hooded man began to walk away. "Alright then, I'll be going. You know what will happen if you follow me."

Toushiro felt a slight shiver of disgust travel down his spine, instantly understanding the implicit threat in the other man's words. He took a growling step forward, gratified when the creaky-faced man flinched away, the prickling unease inevitably caused by his trickle of leaking reiatsu obviously affecting this man. But then Izuku coughed again.

"Wait, Shigaraki. What is All-For-One's ultimate goal?"

Hitsugaya froze, even as Uraraka and Yaoyorozu finally arrived on the scene.

 _Midoriya knew about All-For-One_.

The man – Shigaraki – came back with some uncaring dismissal, vanishing into the crowd, and Hitsugaya debated following him and beating the answers out of the villain for a moment. But that would inevitably blow his cover, and since Midoriya knew about All-For-One, _somehow_ , he needed to explore that connection first before doing something that might jeopardize his current standing. Also – the guy had responded so nonchalantly at Midoriya's question that it was entirely possible that he knew absolutely nothing about All-For-One's endgame. That lead was less solid.

So instead, he memorized the feel of the villain's dusty human soul. He'd find this man again – no doubt about it. But he didn't need to do that now.

Not when Midoriya had the answers he needed.

* * *

 **Boom. How'd ya like it?**

 **Also, a note to those of you who were confused: They're speaking Japanese. I think the word 'befuddles' sounds funny in English. Ergo, Midoriya is laughing because Hitsugaya used the Japanese equivalent of 'befuddles,' and he thinks it sounds funny in Japanese. So. Just in case it didn't mak mush sense.**


	17. See My Heart

**And Class 1-B finally makes a guest appearance! The training-camp/Bakugo-rescue arc starts here.**

 **Also, if any of you were interested in seeing the fanart I've drawn for this story, check out my tumblr! I've got at least three pictures and their progressions posted now :)**

* * *

The incident at the mall resolved with a stressed-looking Aizawa picking him up from the police station later that evening, where he, Midoriya, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu had been taken for questioning. It was nice not to be interrogated on suspicion of committing various illegal actions, for once, but he had noticed that there had been a few spare police officers on standby just outside the comfortable room where the police were talking to him, and after he'd been released he'd seen the police psychiatrist wandering around as well. It was obvious that they'd prepared for the worst in his case.

He'd mentioned it briefly to Midoriya on the way out of the station, in an offhand tone and the green-haired boy had immediately started fretting like a concerned, conscientious verison of Matsumoto. Then Hitsugaya had snapped exasperatedly at him, and the green-haired boy had backed off, shoes scuffing the pavement. There had been a split second of awkwardness. And then Midoriya had laughed a little bit.

"Yeah, you'd think they'd realize that you're not crazy by this point," he'd said, and the simple comment had made Toushiro's face soften, his exasperation turning into resignation with a hint of amusement.

He had gotten into brief trouble over his "speed Quirk" to get to Midoriya's side, and he'd managed to brush off the actual reason behind his sprint back to his friend's side as a paranoid reaction to the almost-flashback he'd managed to pull himself out of (with Bakugo's help). But since he had argued that he hadn't really been aware that he'd been using it – which was apparently believable considering how 'slow' he was going compared to how quickly he actually _was_ able to move – he'd gotten off scot-free for that minor offense as well.

All in all, the day hadn't been terrible. He was surprised to find that he was starting to settle in here, to feel comfortable in this environment, and a steadily growing part of him whispered that if he stopped looking for a way home, he wouldn't have to leave. But that was impossible, and impossibly selfish. If he really was the reason that the wormhole leading to this dimension was allowing Hollows through, then staying would only invite destruction to this world sheltered from the dangers of the afterlife. And he was a shinigami. He wouldn't age. Wouldn't die even when everyone around him began dropping like flies, old and wrinkled. He'd be perpetually frozen in time, stuck watching as a dozen generations died around him, leaving him behind. No, he couldn't stay, no matter how much he wanted to.

He got into Aizawa's low-profile sedan, expecting to be dropped off right at the entrance to the U.A. But much to his surprise, Aizawa made a left where he should have made a right, and drove him to a small diner, where the perpetually-sleepy man treated him to a quick dinner. They ate in silence over bowls of steaming ramen, which wasn't Hitsugaya's favorite but was a good, quick meal nonetheless.

After they'd slurped their food down, Aizawa put a hand on his back, a gentle touch. Hitsugaya tensed at the first brush of the pro-hero's fingertips on his shoulderblades, but after a brief pause he hesitantly relaxed. The dark-haired man was quiet for a moment.

"My cell phone receives alerts when you have flashbacks." His teacher then broke the silence, his tone tactfully soft. "And Yaoyorozu-chan said you seemed to lose touch with reality and be panicking while everyone was shopping today, and asked her to distract you."

Ah. So that's what this was about. Hitsugaya gazed at the dregs of spiced broth and fragmented noodles swimming at the bottom of the red stone bowl, picking at the clump of mushrooms he'd put into the mix. He let a long breath escape him before answering.

"…yeah, I had another episode."

The lights overhead flickered quickly, cars racing past on the streets outside. The small dive joint smelled of cooking oil and cleaning supplies, the squeaky plastic stools they sat on facing the window. Aizawa didn't move his hand.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked, just that single question. Hitsugaya tried not to let his fingers tighten unnecessarily on the pair of cheap, disposable chopsticks in his hand. The wood creaked nonetheless.

"Not particularly." The usual response. The school therapist had been pushing him to start talking about his experiences for two weeks now, and Aizawa was now the only one who would accept that he didn't want to (and couldn't) talk about what had scarred him so badly. There was a pause then, pregnant with the silence of heavy thoughts. Aizawa nodded, accepted the familiar statement for what it was. Then Hitsugaya's ankles crossed, hooking back over the footrest bar on his stool.

"…Am I a coward for trying to forget what I've been through?"

Bakugo, knowingly or not, had struck a nerve when he'd called Hitsugaya pathetic and a coward. For twenty years, he'd tried to blot out all thoughts of the Quincy War, tried to move past the pain by pretending it didn't happen, by going about business as usual. It hadn't worked, even then, and now that he'd accepted the fact that he was affected by the horrors he'd endured, part of him was starting to think that maybe he'd just been running away. Running away from the memories he didn't want to face, from the fact that the past could affect him so much. He'd thought that he'd been trying to put that pain behind him. But maybe not.

"No, Hitsugaya-kun. You're no coward," Aizawa reassured him carefully. "But you are hurting, and you – correct me if I'm wrong – would prefer that you were unaffected. That you didn't feel fear or panic or pain whenever your past catches up to you. And so you are trying to forget it, to move past it so that you can become the person you once were again."

Ow. Aizawa hadn't minced his words at all, and the succinct insight was painfully accurate. Hitsugaya let a hollow laugh escape.

"I'm going to have to change to cope," Hitsugaya mused thoughtfully, the taste of the words bitter on his tongue. Aizawa shook his head.

"I don't think so," His dark eyes narrowed in thought. "But you may need to learn how to view the darkness in your past as events in your life, and not defining moments."

Easier said than done, but it did make sense. Hitsugaya stood up, picking up the smooth stoneware bowl in both hands, his teacher following suit. They set their dishes on the counter, where an older man wearing a chef's hat nodded at cordially at them and collected the bowls. The disposable chopsticks were set aside, into a small bin labeled 'compost,' and the pair left the small establishment. Then Aizawa drove his student back to the dorms, dropping him off with the bags of clothing Yaoyorozu had bought for him. Hitsugaya turned around as he stepped onto the pavement, already pulling his U.A. ID out of his pocket.

"Thank you for dinner, Aizawa-sensei."

The pro-hero shook his head so that his dark hair was out of his eyes, the scraggly beard rustling against the steely wrappings around his shoulders. For just a brief moment, the man looked as if he wanted to say something, shifting to the edge of his seat, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Then Aizawa sighed.

"Remember, the summer camp is a week long. Pack everything you're going to need, and if you're missing something, email me. We leave on Monday morning at 8:00 am, so take tomorrow to rest – no talking, if you can help it." Aizawa made direct eye contact then, pinning Hitsugaya under a stern glare. "And bring the lotion that Recovery Girl gave you to camp. You didn't exactly fail the final exam given your circumstances, but your new Quirk is going to need more practice than some of the others' Quirks, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Toushiro nodded, the bright lights of the streetlamps flickering on overhead and reflecting oddly off the dark blue hood of his teacher's car. Aizawa regarded him silently for another few minutes, then let out a long breath. A rush of somewhat stilted words spilled into the quiet.

"Hitsugaya-kun, it's…it's really important that you start talking about what happened to traumatize you so badly." The sentence was halting, and the pro-hero's brow was wrinkled, a muscle grinding in his jaw. "It's part of the healing process to walk PTSD sufferers through the story of their trauma in as much detail as possible so that they can learn to cope with it."

The young captain shook his head, his white hair sticking to the sides of his face in the muggy evening air. Something like bile touched his tongue, bitter enough to curl his face.

"Aizawa-sensei…"

The teacher held up a hand to cut him off, the motion prickling vaguely up Hitsugaya's easily-ruffled pride as he was silenced. But then the man slumped backward in the leather seat of his car, one hand limp on the steering wheel.

"I know you don't want to talk to us about it," he said quietly. "But…you trust Midoriya a little now, don't you? Try talking to him, or to someone else whom you're better friends with about it. Just consider it, would you?"

Toushiro paused, heart clenching between his lungs so that his chest felt tight and breathless. The golden lamplight turned the street sidewalks orange in the darkness.

"…I'll consider it, Aizawa-sensei." Hitsugaya had to force himself not to lie, not to give in to the temptation to be dismissive of the entire situation. It was hard to admit, that he needed to tell someone else just how weak he had been, once upon a time. But that honesty was necessary, that telltale tension as he ground his molars together and choked the words from his mouth. Aizawa's exhausted gaze softened.

"You're a remarkable young man, Hitsugaya-kun," Aizawa said, a hint of melancholy in his tone. "I've met fully grown heroes who aren't even half as strong as you are."

Hitsugaya couldn't stop the smile that crept through his heart or the slight curve of his lips, the compliment somehow touching.

"Thank you for believing that."

Aizawa shut the car door, still speaking through the open window to the young shinigami, and sat back up, both of his hands returning to the steering well.

"Sleep well, kid. I'll see you Monday."

"Goodnight, sensei."

Then the car pulled away from the curb, the window sliding soundlessly back up, and Hitsugaya disappeared onto the school campus.

* * *

"Huuuuuhhhhh? Class 1-A needs _remedial lessons?_ That means someone _failed_! Isn't that _weird?!_ And I thought Class 1-A was supposed to be _superior_ to Class 1-B!"

 _Kuh-thunk_.

"…Sorry about that, Class 1-A."

The orange-haired girl shot the twenty-one students of Class 1-A a sheepish smile, and from his place slightly off to the side of the group of his classmates, Hitsugaya had to quell an eye roll. The blonde boy's attitude was interesting, considering that it seemed to be shared by none of his classmates. Probably a case of low self-esteem, if anything.

He had packed the night before, rolling his clothes tightly and carefully putting everything into the travel bag he'd purchased at the mall two days prior, and now that bag sat slung over his back, resting over top of Hyourinmaru's sheathed blade. Nobody was questioning that he was carrying the Zanpakutou, but he could see some of the students in the other hero class staring at the weapon with nervous, confused looks. The feeling of bitter amusement that settled into the pit of his stomach was welcomingly familiar, the wary looks he remembered so well from the Shinou Academy finally starting to appear.

The cruel smirk that drifted across his face came unbidden, but as he watched the self-absorbed blonde turn pale under his gaze, he couldn't help feeling somewhat satisfied. A haughty scoff was well placed, lips peeling back to reveal a sneer. He could almost feel the other class recoiling in sudden dismay, but he had eyes only for the blonde boy.

"If you're going to talk shit, at least don't make yourself look pathetic in the process." Looking down his nose disdainfully was quite a way to step on someone's ego or discover if they had an ego at all, and he'd crushed others' pride enough times to derive a twisted kind of pleasure from it. The blonde gritted his teeth, apparently already recovered from his classmate's smack. A few of the other Class 1-B students gaped, brows lacing together on their foreheads as indignation at Hitsugaya's tone rose.

Almost on cue, Midoriya wandered over, his freckled cheeks stretched in that disarmingly sunny smile of his, and Toushiro blinked once or twice to clear the glare from his eyes.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun, you don't have to be so unpleasant to Monoma-san, you know." Midoriya's rebuke was a bit wavering, but much to Hitsugaya's shock there wasn't even the slightest hint of a stutter. He uncrossed his arms from over his chest, trying not to stare at the inexplicably sudden change. Midoriya's face pinked across the bridge of his nose, gaze flickering at the pointed stare, but his Adam's apple bobbed and he turned away from Hitsugaya. An answering sheepish grin lit up his pale face.

"Er, s-sorry about Hitsugaya-kun too, Class 1-B-"

"Oi Midoriya, I'm standing right here you know."

"-he's a bit rough around the edges, but he means well."

The girl with the orange side-ponytail raised an eyebrow and shifted her weight onto one foot.

"I'm sure," she said skeptically. Then Todoroki took a step forward, heterchromatic eyes blinking owlishly at the girl.

"Hitsugaya-kun has his own set of issues he has to deal with right now, Kendo-san." The half-and-half teenager's voice was calm, but the pitch was just a note too high for there not to be some kind of warning on the honor student's face. Hitsugaya didn't bother to look over his shoulder to see Todoroki's expression. "Give him a chance."

Midoriya nodded emphatically, bouncing up and down in place with nervous energy.

"Yeah, a-actually, Hitsugaya-kun was probably just trying to offer advice." The freckled cheeks twisted up into a rueful smile. "He did it to me on Saturday – was rude on purpose so that I got annoyed, all to make a point about an issue he'd noticed."

Monoma's blue eyes narrowed, his lips pressing together for a moment.

"Then what was he trying to say about me?" he challenged, an aggressive undercurrent in his tone. Midoriya bit his lower lip, chewing in thought. Hitsugaya beat him to the punch.

"Back it up."

Monoma glared at Hitsugaya, who was still staring at him, utterly unimpressed by the display of disgruntled hauteur. This kid was an amateur at the art of lofty disdain, and Hitsugaya arched an eyebrow in response to the glare, condescendingly inspecting his nails as he waited for the passive-aggressive blonde to speak for himself.

"What does that mean?" The question was grudging but there, and Hitsugaya allowed an unpleasant smirk to flicker across his face.

"If you're going to mock these students for being supposedly better than you, then at least try not to betray your own self-esteem issues." Hitsugaya let his tone chill into apathetic ice. "And if you're going to claim to be superior to another individual, _back it up_. People who are all talk disgust me."

Monoma's face tightened, jaw clenching, and the grinding scrape of his teeth creaking echoed faintly in the air. Hitsugaya knew that Aizawa and Class 1-B's teacher were both watching him, wary of his next actions and wary of the temper that sometimes exploded out of his control, but this was deliberate. A little further, and he'd have the measure of this kid, be able to see if the teenager would follow through.

"What, and you _can_ back up your trashy attitude?" Monoma spat, his feathers obviously getting ruffled. Hitsugaya smiled condescendingly.

"Of course," he simpered, layering the absolute arrogance on as thick as he could. He leaned forward a little bit. " _I'm_ Class 1-A, unlike _you_."

The whistle of air rushing around pale knuckles was the only warning Hitsugaya needed. Without looking, he reached up, slapping his palm over top of Monoma's fist to catch the punch before it could land. As the teachers called out in surprise, Iida and Kendo both yelling, he ran his gaze over the blonde boy's stance, appraising it carefully. Monoma had stood up for himself just like Midoriya had – he just had needed the right push.

"You have martial arts training at all, Monoma-san?"

The brief outburst of noise went silent. Monoma blinked, his jaw relaxing somewhat. Aizawa went very, very still about fifteen paces away from where this was taking place.

"…Uh, a year when I was ten?"

Hitsugaya nodded – it had been about what he'd expected.

"I thought so; your left jab feels formulaic, like you've practiced it before. But you telegraph your moves too much – there was a little bit of wind-up before you moved, and your stance has you off-balance, plus it exposes your chest and stomach to frontal attacks. Turn sideways a little bit and bring your back foot in line with your front heel."

Thoroughly confused, the blonde dumbly did as the young captain instructed. Then Hitsugaya took a pace back.

"Alright, try again."

Class 1-B gaped. So did a few members of Class 1-A. Midoriya just sighed and shook his head, the green kinks of his hair bouncing. Monoma stared for a long moment, then finally snapped his fist out again. Toushiro again caught it easily, looking utterly unruffled by the fact that he was brushing off the blonde's attacks like it was nothing.

"That was a solid punch." The praise was quiet but genuine, and Toushiro let his lips curl up in a slight smile – a kinder one, this time. "…As I said – _back it up_."

There was a collective breath of realization from several individuals, Monoma included, and Hitsugaya almost instantly pulled away from the change in expression, fading back into the group of Class 1-A with a resurrected air of suave arrogance. Monoma blinked after him for a long moment – Hitsugaya could feel the other boy's stare burning the patch of skin between his shoulder blades. Then he felt Midoriya's prickling reiatsu bound towards him, sliding into place behind him as they started to line up for the bus. He glanced back over his shoulder to see the hint of mixed appreciation and vexation in Midoriya's forest-colored stare.

"You don't have to be rude to be helpful, you know." Midoriya's voice was a touch upset, the words a little clipped. Hitsugaya tried not to sigh.

"It is much easier to inspire animosity between individuals than camaraderie, and this has always been especially true of me," he said, tossing his bag into the underbelly of the bus. "I'm used to having others' fear and hate directed at me, and so I've learned to manipulate that. Besides, people are more likely to remember a lesson which they were tricked into receiving rather than advice they were given."

"Have you taught others before, Hitsugaya-kun?"

The voice wasn't Midoriya's, and as Toushiro cocked his head back, he saw Aizawa standing at his side, still dressed in all black even in the muggy summer air. Hitsugaya didn't know how the man could stand it – he was grateful enough that they'd ditched their school blazers, but he was still feeling the heat with unpleasant acuity and it was only eight in the morning.

"Yes, I have." It was kind of in his job description as a Captain to be able to teach his men, and while he couldn't take the time necessary to better each and every one of his subordinates, he had definitely worked with all of his seated officers in a one-on-one environment. Aizawa regarded him for a moment, standing back as Iida and Ashido boarded the bus.

"…Your experience shows."

Hitsugaya glanced at the dark-haired man out of the corner of one slanted eye, the glint of Hyourinmaru's bronze hilt reflecting a hint of summer sun into his eyes. The teacher's smile was genuine, a couple of teeth showing. Hitsugaya's lips pulled at the sight of Aizawa's approval, a wry twist slanting his white eyebrows.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

It was the last thing he said for a while, because after everyone had settled on board the bus – much to his surprise, Todoroki had chosen to sit next to him, and Midoriya had settled into the seat directly in front of him – the twenty other students of Class 1-A got a little rowdy. Hitsugaya sat back quietly, watching the carnage of Pocky and music and Bakugo's temper unfold in front of him. About thirty minutes into the bus ride, however, Izuku turned around with that same unyielding backbone that only appeared when he was concerned about someone else.

"Hitsugaya-kun?"

Toushiro hummed in response, unwilling to turn his head from where it was resting against the headrest of the seat.

"…I think that you're good at inspiring animosity because that's what you expect out of people."

Hitsugaya could feel Todoroki's wince of sympathy through the vibration of the seats, and he pulled his cheek away from the slightly-itchy cloth with a frown. Of course he expected animosity as a first response – it was all he'd ever gotten from the people in Rukongai and the other Academy students. Even Momo had fallen into that trap eventually. So he'd learned to manipulate it, learned to use it, and learned to exacerbate it, and he'd proven to be exceptionally skilled at being an arrogant, infuriatingly intelligent little shit, to the point where his name had become synonymous with the concept of justified arrogance in Seireitei.

"You're saying that's a bad thing?" Toushiro tipped his head to the side, carefully observing Midoriya's face as he spoke. Izuku paused for a moment, obviously considering his words.

"…no, it works," the young man admitted after a moment. "But it just seems very lonely, always expecting the worst and pushing people away because you're expecting them to push back."

Toushiro's breath caught in his chest and he lowered his gaze, suddenly feeling winded. He had no response for that, and the fact that Midoriya had cut him to the quick in a single sentence was galling, to say the least. At his side, Todoroki reached out, putting a chilly hand on his shoulder. Hitsugaya remembered belatedly that he hadn't breathed for a little while and took a shallow gasp of oxygen. What could he say to defend himself; to explain his close-guarded heart?

 _You trust Midoriya a little now, don't you? Try talking to him, or to someone else whom you're better friends with about it. Just consider it, would you?_

Midoriya and Todoroki had both stood up for him, defended him even when faced with a man that many people looked up to. Todoroki had stood up to his own father – even if their relationship seemed rocky – to support him. And Midoriya had whipped out that impressive resolve of his to argue for the unfairness of Endeavor's report. They'd both risked punishment to do that for him, and they didn't even owe him anything. Hell, Midoriya had even given him access to blackmail baby photos, all without asking for anything in return. Maybe they deserved a little bit more than what he'd been giving.

Not trust. Not yet. But tentative friendship, the kind he'd extended to Matsumoto all those years ago, the kind Kurosaki had more recently wrested from him without permission. Neither of those two had let him down yet. Matsumoto had even become his confidant; she alone had seen him sobbing the night Hinamori had severed their relationship, had taken care of him when he'd been so drunk and miserable that all he could do was cry. He trusted Matsumoto more than anyone else, and Kurosaki was working his way there.

These two deserved a chance to at least catch a glimpse of the heart underneath his icy veneer. And besides, he needed Midoriya to trust him enough to feel comfortable telling him about this All-For-One villain.

He needed Midoriya to tell him what the pros wouldn't.

"…it is very lonely." He let his gaze fall to the carpeted bus floor, keen shinigami eyesight looking for crumbs in the weave of the rough threads. Todoroki and Midoriya both went utterly silent, and there was a slight rustle as Midoriya got on his knees and wrapped his arms around the back of his seat. Toushiro had to suppress a twitch, an instinctive urge to lash out and smack Todoroki's hand away, to deliver a full-force uppercut Midoriya's jaw. But the two stayed quiet, respecting and realizing precisely what he was doing, and somehow it helped him to stay calm.

"Keeping everyone at arms' distance, staying cruel…it's something you learn, when you grow up alone." He let his voice soften. If either of the two had trouble hearing him, they made no indication of it, remaining perfectly still. "I…For as long as I can remember, I have been hated by adults and children alike. At first, I didn't know why people would run from me or throw stones, only that they did. When I was older…I learned that people were scared of my hair and eyes. Where I'm from, my looks are nearly unheard of, and I suppose people believed I was cursed. And there was something else…it's not important now, but I was an outcast for much of my life."

Thankfully, the raucous noise drowned out his words beyond the small bubble of silence surrounding him, Todoroki, and Midoriya, both of whom were listening, subdued by the little bit he was revealing about himself. He pulled a knee up to his chest, digging his heel into the seat cushion as he leaned forward. He'd gotten taller by almost 40 cm since the Quincy invasion, and the position with the added height on his growing body was still slightly awkward.

"So I learned how to use it, that hate and fear that everyone felt for me, and I learned how to turn what people hated about me into a weapon. It was better to be lonely by choice than to be hurt over and over again." He let his voice turn icy with anger, the lingering bitterness he felt towards his living parents, the residents of Junrinan, the pathetic conceited saps at the Academy, and the shinigami who hated him for his prowess collecting in the pit of his stomach with nauseating potency. "As I told you earlier this year – I didn't grow up in this idyllic little dream world of yours. Even as a little kid, I had potential; raw talent and power. And there were people who knew that and had to exploit it, had to exploit me to protect others. I saw too much, too soon, and it killed any sort of kindness or ability to trust in me, and I learned to be cruel to protect myself."

There was another silence, but as it stretched into nothing, Hitsugaya turned his gaze out the window, resting his cheek on his kneecap. Todoroki's hand was still on his shoulder, lingering frost on the other boy's fingertips a soothing source of relief. There was no sound from Midoriya or Todoroki for a long minute.

"…I can't pretend to know what that's like, Hitsugaya-kun. But my father married my mother for the sole reason that he wanted a child with the ability to produce both flame and ice so that someone related to him would surpass All Might." Todoroki's voice was also soft, just loud enough for Hitsugaya and Midoriya to hear. "And once my Quirk manifested, he made me train for hours every day, and tormented my mother in the meantime. She'd been forced into the marriage by her parents, and my father…she hated him. She hated him so much, and he was so cruel to her, that she burned the left side of my face because it reminded her of him. She's living in a psychiatric hospital now."

Hitsugaya didn't say anything, but he felt the pangs of sympathy welling up in his chest. He knew what it felt like to receive only a parent's hate. And now perhaps he understood Todoroki's reaction when Endeavor had nearly forced him into a mental facility.

"So I suppose all I'm trying to say is that…I know what it feels like for someone to exploit you for your abilities. And…and Midoriya showed me that I'm more than just what my father wants me to be – the same way you're more than what the people exploiting your power want you to be."

Midoriya didn't say anything, perhaps subdued by his classmates' stories, but the unmistakable prickling wavelength of his mutated reiatsu rang with sorrow. Hitsugaya could feel it creeping over his skin, the slight needling of the young human's reiatsu perforating his soul with the gentle warmth of compassion. It was unnervingly comfortable, unnaturally so. Even in his lieutenant's presence he didn't feel this sort of depth. The green-haired boy, after several moments of silence, finally dug his nails into the back of the seat.

"…If…if either of you two ever want someone to talk to, about anything, just let me know and I'll listen," he offered quietly. "I…I might not be able to do much besides that, but I'll listen to anything you want to tell me. And Hitsugaya-kun…uh, thank you for trusting Todoroki-kun and I enough to talk to us a little bit."

The rest of the bus ride, Hitsugaya didn't turn his face away from the glass windowpane, staring at his ghostly reflection through the rolling background of the mountains rising outside. He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even acknowledge the other two boys sitting in silence in front of and next to him. But he didn't knock Todoroki's hand off his shoulder either, and that was a noticeable difference.

So when the bus rolled to a stop thirty minutes later and they all got off to go to the bathroom, neither Midoriya nor Todoroki were surprised when Hitsugaya stood between them, integrating himself into the class for the first time.

* * *

 **So it was a bit of a slower chapter, perhaps, but it's important for the slow build of the relationships that Hitsugaya is going to form within Class 1-A.**

 **Also, be warned. Next chapter will start the beginning of my technical quantum-physics theories and scientific pseudo-reasoning. It may get a bit confusing. Feel free to look up the following, if you're interested: Einstein-Rosen bridges, Exotic matter (dark matter, antimatter, negative matter), Quantum fizz, and string theory. Fun facts will abound!**


	18. Quantum Scar

**A/N: I've had a few people ask if I'm going to go ahead of where Season 3 of BnHA and reference the manga. And the shorthand answer is: Yes. I warned everyone of this in the A/N of the prologue chapter. It probably won't happen for a while considering that the anime is putting out episodes faster than I can write, but once Season 3 ends, expect me to introduce Mirio, Eri, Nejire-chan, and Nighteye, among other manga-only characters.**

 **In addition, I think I'll clarify something. I had a fantastic discussion with a reviewer concerning my portrayal of Hitsugaya, but it brought to my attention the fact that some people consider him an adult stuck inside a child's body. This is _NOT_ the case in this story. He is psychologically fifteen-sixteen in Dragon Blade, and I have based this decision on actual neuroscience (yes, I have studied biopsychology/neurobiology, yes I know what I'm talking about for the most part). So that's how I'm trying to write him. Hopefully I'm succeeding!**

 **Anyway, everyone enjoy this chapter! And check out my tumblr to see the fanart I've drawn (search for the myart hashtag on my tumblr and you should find everything). The most recent drawing is of the Hitsusquad! (Like the Bakusquad or the Dekusquad, but for Toushiro, lol)**

* * *

It wasn't a rest stop. For some reason, that thought was the only thing sticking in Hitsugaya's head at the moment. He barely noticed the view out over the lush valley sprawling between the mountain the buses were currently perched on and the mountain rising in the distance. The soft mountain breeze was also barely noticed in spite of the alleviating effect the wind had upon the sticking heat and humidity.

It wasn't a rest stop. So why were they here?

He wasn't the only other one to observe the oddity of this pit stop. Yaoyorozu had already begun staring at Aizawa in askance, and Midoriya was starting to turn a touch pale in confusion. But then their attention was disrupted by the arrival of the four souls he'd sensed hiding just out of sight. Even Hitsugaya found himself startled, and he had to bite back a sharp yelp of laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the giant man in a _catgirl costume_. Midoriya didn't seem to be that fazed, though, already rattling off the group's specialty and the Quirks of each of the individuals in the group. Todoroki carefully brushed a hand over his elbow, then leaned in just close enough to speak in an undertone.

"…the big guy looks out of place."

Hitsugaya bit his lip on a snort of amusement, his grey high-top sneakers grinding against the gravel of the roadside they were standing on. He heard Todoroki snicker once or twice beside him as well, the usually aloof teenager apparently quite willing to befriend him.

"…imagine the faces of the people he rescues," Hitsugaya muttered back, fighting down a smirk. "I'd think I was concussed, seeing that."

Todoroki spluttered, obviously not expecting the biting sarcasm, and Toushiro had to bite his tongue to keep from breaking his stoic mask. Midoriya shot a petulant glance back at them, obviously having heard their whispers over the rustling of the trees, then promptly got pounced on by the light-haired woman. The dark-haired woman pointed out with one claw, the enormous paw-gloves waving in the general direction of one mountain. Hitsugaya glanced at it momentarily – the tree-covered peak was probably somewhere around 30 kilometers away, but was otherwise unremarkable. Then the woman smiled a sugary, sadistic smile.

"You'll be staying at our base camp, which is located at the foot of that mountain. It's about 9:30 now, so if you make good time, you can be there by noon."

Just as the class started to panic in realization, the dark-haired woman grinned a little wider. Hitsugaya felt a thunderbolt of familiarity slide over him, the sudden reflection of his own face mirroring over the cat-woman's smirking grin. Oh, he _liked_ this woman! Had this been Aizawa's idea?

"However, the kittens that don't make it by 12:30 won't get any lunch! Feel free to use your Quirks as you see fit in our domain."

The air rushed out of his lungs, and he had to press his hand over his mouth to keep the sound in, his shoulders starting to quiver. This was _his_ tactic with his rookies, that same sadism matching his own glee at watching despair pass across his rookies' faces when they arrived at their first training session with him. This was his absolute favorite, setting the newbies an impossible task and watching as the realization set in. His appreciative laughter wasn't stifled well enough, however, and almost instantly attention shot to him, Midoriya and Todoroki both turning fully around to look at him with some consternation. Aizawa also raised a dark eyebrow, scratching at his stubble. The dark-haired woman blinked at him, nonplussed by his amusement.

"…Something funny, Hitsugaya-kun?" Aizawa's question grumbled with warning and Toushiro shot his teacher a wicked smirk.

"I've taught others, remember?" He couldn't keep the snickers of schadenfreude out of his voice. "It's just funny when I see others using my methods – even if there's a few flaws, it's hilarious to know that other people enjoy watching rookie despair."

Aizawa hid a smile in the folds of his bandage-scarf, a long groan of resignation echoing through the muffling cloth. Midoriya and Todoroki stared openly at their new friend, a hint of awestruck nerves twitching in their veins. Then Mineta, quivering and clutching at his crotch in an effort to keep his bladder from exploding, whimpered.

"You're sadistic, Hitsugaya-san!"

Toushiro dug his foot into the dirt of the hilltop, bracing his body in a sprint position. Then he smirked again, white eyebrows knitting together on his forehead. Aizawa merely sighed again.

"If you've got something to say, say it, Hitsugaya-kun. We don't have all day."

The young captain's smirk flickered into calculating coolness.

"We can use our Quirks as we see fit," he said. "Which means one thing and one thing only – We'll beat you to the place we're staying. Because while there might be twenty-one of us, I'm more than capable of carrying others, and with my speed I can cross this distance in about fifteen seconds, one-way."

Aizawa's eyes widened in some shock. There was a sudden silence, the pro-heroes stunned. And then Midoriya spoke up, his voice strangled, the breeze nearly obscuring his words.

"Hitsugaya-kun…you'd have to be traveling over 7,000 kilometers an hour."

Toushiro cocked his head to the side, considering, then nodded. That seemed about right for an easy Shunpo distance-run. Not too fast – certainly nowhere near his sprinting speed – but not slow either. The effort was probably equivalent to a human runner running a cross-country race of some kind, aiming to win while knowing that another ten kilometers were ahead.

"Yes, I'd be going approximately Mach 6."

Another silence. Hitsugaya glanced up at Aizawa, who was looking at him with some concern and no little spark of worry. He blinked, rubbing irritably at one eye as sand blew into the green iris, ducking his head to hide his face. His heart squeezed in his ribcage at the look, the uncomfortable tightening of his chest locking away bittersweet thoughts of his former captain, Isshin.

"…you can survive moving at that speed with no protective gear?"

Ah. He'd almost forgotten that humans weren't made of the same stuff as a shinigami, figuratively and literally. There was a soft squeak as his shoes ground against the dirt, and he fixed a level stare on Aizawa, trying to communicate through expression alone. It took a moment for the man to get the message, but when he did his concern changed to incredulity.

"How…? The friction from moving at that speed could melt metal!"

That was Midoriya again, the teenager obviously having understood his silence for the patience it was. Hitsugaya let his lips curl up slightly, understanding coloring his amusement. This was something that he himself had wondered for a long time, until he'd learned more about the nature of reishi and its properties when interacting with the matter of the human universe – the kishi that human bodies were made of.

"Not if I don't let the air interact with my body on a subatomic level."

At that, Yaoyorozu spoke up, her eyes wide in shock, hands coming up to cover her mouth.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you're talking about breaking the laws of quantum physics!"

Her exclamation was perfectly timed, and Toushiro couldn't help but grin wickedly, eyes flashing with the frozen storm residing in his soul. Aizawa's dark gaze flared scarlet for a moment, as if preemptively trying to stop him from going anywhere too soon. But the young shinigami just rolled his eyes towards the sky. Aizawa now knew that he wasn't human, and that made it much easier for him to flaunt some of his abilities.

"No. Not breaking. _Bypassing_." The sheer intellectual delight that broke over Yaoyorozu's eyes at his nonchalant correction almost made him laugh in surprise. He hadn't spoken to Yaoyorozu much before her spree of kindness on Saturday, but he'd learned that she was surprisingly intelligent. She perhaps wasn't the most analytical of the students, but the sheer scope of her comprehension was far beyond anything her peers could claim.

"So _that's_ what your Quirk – not the scale one – actually is!" she gasped, clasping her hands to her cheeks. "It's not just a speed Quirk; you're actually manipulating spacetime by…what is it? Are you producing antimatter? Dark matter? Dark energy? Or are you somehow making exotic matter with a _negative_ mass and energy that enables you to escape the gravitational force – Oh, but if you could do two at once-!"

Hitsugaya nodded encouragingly as she continued, knowing precisely where she was going with her line of reasoning. Humans were so, so close to discovering the concept of reishi through mathematical quantum physics, even if they didn't know precisely what it was. And hearing Yaoyorozu spouting off the theories that had taken scientists years to calculate was like a balm to the knowledge-seeking side of his soul. He'd love to just sit down and talk with her again if they ever got the chance.

"Aside from your conjecturing, interesting as it is," he began, cutting the girl off in midsentence, her pretty dark eyes glittering with vivacious excitement, "the bottom line is that I am not bound by the laws of physics and general relativity, including the gravitational and electromagnetic forces. I'm still not entirely sure if I can bypass the two nuclear forces, however."

Aizawa blinked owlishly, as did several of the students and the three cat-girl heroes standing behind him. Midoriya's jaw dropped, as did Iida's. Bakugo just stared soundlessly, his red eyes dilated to almost nothing in disbelief. Even Todoroki and the ever-calm Asui looked positively taken aback. Yaoyorozu, however, was practically _sparkling_ with sheer excitement.

"You can- the laws of general relativity- _oh my god_ , you can actually-!"

Her squealing was starting to become very Matsumoto-ish, and as _legitimate stars_ began to form in her dark eyes Toushiro sighed, went a little bit pink in the cheeks, and scooped her up in his arms. She yelped in surprise, throwing her arms around his neck to better secure herself, her face turning bright crimson. Almost immediately, she fell completely silent.

"Alright, you first then, since you're so excited about it," he said, rolling his eyes with some amusement. Then he glanced at Aizawa with a cocky smirk. "You might want to start driving. I'm pretty sure you don't get lunch if you don't make the time hack."

As the resigned smile crept incrementally onto Aizawa's unwilling lips, Hitsugaya took off, pulsing his reiatsu with a single breath. Yaoyorozu yelped and buried her face in his shoulder as they shot forward, the chilly bubble of his cold reiatsu forming a protective layer over her fragile human body. Wind buffeted them sharply, muted by his power, the world probably an insensible blur of color to her eyes, and he landed on a tree branch, the leaves flaking in the slipstream of his passage. There was solid tap as his foot landed on the wood, and then he Shunpoed again, traveling another kilometer in a single bound.

It took fourteen seconds for him to arrive at the cute lodge at the base of the mountain the dark-haired cat-girl had pointed out, his senses locked on to the two souls inside the building. One was very young – probably a child, and the other was older, probably around the age of twenty-five. Neither of them were outside at the moment, but there was a nice, large clearing around the area where the building had been set up, and Hitsugaya stepped onto the packed earth lightly, with nary a silver of inertia.

"Yaoyorozu-san, you can look now," he said, trying hard not to smile when she hesitantly untucked her face from the crook of his neck, still blushing violently. Then her dark eyes widened in shock at seeing the small lodge. Carefully, Toushiro set her down on her feet and gave her a minute to regain her balance before completely letting go. Her ponytail, already wild by nature, was now also ruffled by the wind. She'd be giving Abarai and his crazy hair a run for his money if she was a redhead.

"…wow…"

He rolled his eyes again and turned around.

"I'll be back in approximately thirty seconds. Stay put, would you?"

He didn't wait for her reply, Shunpoing away in a buzz of color and light. One by one, he ferried the class over to the small clearing where Yaoyorozu was, managing to transport the five other girls before Aizawa got back on the bus and drove off. Ashido, Asui, Hagakure, Jiro, and Uraraka were set gently next to Yaoyorozu, bubbling about the incredulity of Hitsugaya's primary Quirk and how _weird_ the world had looked when they were traveling so fast. Then he started on the boys, taking Sero, Shouji, Kouda, and Tokoyami across before even considering transporting Mineta, who wet himself almost as soon as Hitsugaya had dumped him in the clearing. Kaminari and Todoroki went next, followed by Sato, Aoyama, and Ojiro. Then it was down to the final four.

Bakugo was glaring _hard._

"Don't you even fucking try to carry me like some princess, Snowy."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, perched narrowly on the silver guardrail separating the road from the steep cliff down to the valley floor. He hadn't even spoken a word, had barely steadied himself on the rail when Bakugo had brusquely snapped at him.

"Perish the thought." he snorted, stepping off the railing lightly, his shoes crunching on the gravel. The derisive comment wasn't lost on the blonde teenager, and a muscle tightened in Bakugo's jaw. It looked like he was trying to strangle a smirk before it could bloom on his face, and the boy's face was slowly turning red with effort. Hitsugaya turned to Kirishima then.

"Kirishima-san?"

The redheaded teenager grinned, his sharp teeth flashing in the morning sun, and pounced. He landed square on Hitsugaya's back over the Zanpakutou blade, locking his arms tightly around the leaner boy's neck and shoulders. Hitsugaya stumbled, letting out a brief squall of surprise before he managed to steady himself and lock his arms around Kirishima's knees. A pink tinge flushed his cheeks again as the muscular teenager snuggled into the back of his neck, nosing into his hair. Kirishima stiffened without warning, then let out an excitable cheer.

"Hitsugaya-kun, your hair is so _fluffy_!"

Oh _lord_ , he was not going through this again. Once with Matsumoto was enough for a lifetime.

"No, it's not."

"Hey, it's very manly to have soft hair! It means you take care of yourself, that's all."

"Oh, for the love of winter, we're _leaving_."

He dumped Kirishima unceremoniously onto his butt when he arrived at the clearing where all of the members of Class 1-A were stretched out on the grass, his face flushed in rosy embarrassment, and fled almost immediately.

But when he arrived back at the side of the highway, Bakugo was smirking evilly.

"My turn." He announced. Hitsugaya leveled a frosty scowl at the blonde.

"I swear, if you- _Mother of-_ Bakugo!"

He growled threateningly and shoved himself up, brushing the gravel off where it had temporarily embedded itself into his arms and skin. Bakugo stayed firmly on his back, knees locked tight around his waist. The freaking moron had _jumped_ on him, and had used the extra propulsion of an explosion or two to flatten him against the gravel. Hitsugaya grudgingly stood up, choking momentarily as Bakugo hooked a strong arm around his throat and pulled himself closer. Then his cheeks went even pinker as the unpredictable blonde buried his face into his soft white hair for a moment.

"Aha! You _are_ fucking fluffy, Snowball!"

"…I am _so_ fucking dropping you through a cloud."

Hitsugaya made good on his word, going out of his way to Shunpo briefly above a low-lying cloud, where he shook Katsuki off and let the blonde free-fall for a few seconds before darting down and catching him, princess-style. Then he crossed the remaining distance, appearing in the clearing with Bakugo carried in his arms.

"His Royal Highness Princess Explodork has arrived," Toushiro said sarcastically, dropping the blonde onto his butt just as the boy realized what had happened. Kirishima snorted, then burst out laughing, as did Sero and a few others. Katsuki bounded up, fire flaring in his crimson eyes.

"You marshmallow fucker!"

Hitsugaya disappeared just as Bakugo lunged at him, speeding back to where Iida and Midoriya waited on the edge of the road. Iida's expression was taut – it had been ever since Hitsugaya had started talking about Shunpo. Toushiro leveled a cool look at him.

"Iida-san, your turn."

The bespectacled boy sighed, glancing down at the ground. He seemed reluctant. Hitsugaya had a sneaking suspicion as to why. He rather thought this might have come up at some point.

"Iida-san, you can use the speed your Quirk provides to reinforce your blows, can you not?"

The class president glanced up, cocking his head to the side in confusion, but nodded nonetheless. Hitsugaya just kept gazing levelly at the tall, bookish boy.

"My Quirk requires me to temporarily bypass the laws of physics," he said, "But I therefore must return to normalcy before interacting with anything not made of the same material I emit. Your Quirk is much more suited for physical combat with villains than mine is."

The simple statement had a profound effect. Iida's dark head of hair raised up, his blue eyes locking onto Hitsugaya's. The barest hint of a sheepish smile played at his lips.

"…I suppose I was being somewhat ridiculuous, comparing our abilities."

The admission was quiet, but Hitsugaya responded with his marginal kindness.

"There will always exist someone who can best you in something. That is why we must keep striving, no?"

Iida's robot hands nearly chopped him on the shoulder as the boy got excited, earnest agreement overflowing from him in waves, but the young captain ducked back and after a moment the bespectacled teenager calmed down.

"You are altogether correct, Hitsugaya-kun!"

Transporting Iida was met with no more complications, and he was dropped with the others easily. Then was Midoriya, who just regarded him quietly for a long moment before walking over and climbing easily up onto Hitsugaya's lean back, settling over top of the sheathed blade. Midoriya also tucked his face into the soft tufts of white hair at the nape of Hitsugaya's neck, the smile on his cheeks pressed into the back of the white uniform shirt. Toushiro stepped to the edge of the roadway.

"You're very kind sometimes, Hitsugaya-kun."

The breeze rolled past, lifting the muggy air for a moment. Hitsugaya let the wind kiss his face for a few moments. Then he sighed.

"…don't make it common knowledge, Midoriya."

They reached the lodge with no incident, and the entire class spent several long minutes cackling with laughter as Bakugo chased Hitsugaya all over the place, trying with no success to repay the brief helpfulness that had been Hitsugaya dropping him through a cloud and then onto his butt. However, the fun was short-lived – as soon as the bus rolled up, bearing Aizawa and the stunned Pussycats, they were chased back into the forest and told not to come out until noon. And much to everyone's chagrin, there were large beasts made of earth and rock scattered throughout the trees, more than willing to attack the group of teenagers. It was hard, sweaty work for most of them.

But of course, then Aizawa had to poke his nose into everyone's business, and suddenly Hitsugaya was only allowed to use his scale-Quirk, the nameless new ability he'd just discovered. Everything got a lot harder after that. By noon, the troop of twenty-one exhausted students were lying sprawled in the grass, having returned to the building exactly on time for lunch, which a lighter-haired member of the Pussycats had made for them all. They wolfed the food down, some more gingerly than others, but all with the same gusto. Hitsugaya winced every time he lifted his chopsticks, his body aching, his skin dry and itchy.

To nobody's surprise, Hitsugaya had done well against the earthen monsters, but he'd paid a price for it. His new Quirk was obviously cumbersome and awkward for him to use, and the scales, while effective for turning blades, were ill-suited to defend blunt-force trauma. It didn't help that he had been unable to call upon the more battle-oriented of his Quirk's abilities, restricted by his inexperience. The farthest he'd managed to stretch his Quirk had resulted in scales completely covering his hands, arms, chest, and lower back, but even though his fingernails had also shifted into the bony claws, the extra weapon had done very little against the stony creations. Even more frustrating, the scaly patches hadn't formed where he'd needed them to, and the beast had managed to scratch his unprotected upper back with a glancing blow. It was only his sheer martial arts ability that had carried him through, that and his natural physical superiority to humans in general.

Then, after lunch, they were thrown back into the woods. The three female Pussycats smiled at them as the group trudged dejectedly back into the forest of monsters. Aizawa just burrowed into his sleeping bag.

"Have fun out there, kittens!"

* * *

They'd _earned_ this bath.

Midoriya had never been so excited to get into the hot springs in his entire life. But right now, he was dirty and bruised and sore, and hot water on aching muscles had _never_ sounded so good before. And he wasn't the only one who was looking forward to that relief. The second that Aizawa had gestured at the interior of the lodge and told them to eat, bathe, and sleep, the entire class had nearly cried with joy. Pixiebob had forced them all to help make dinner, proclaiming loudly that it would be the last time she helped them with anything at all, and the food had disappeared almost as soon as it had been set on the table, everyone inhaling as much as they could.

And then, as soon as the plates and bowls were all washed – a task that took remarkably little time, even considering that there were twenty-one of them – everyone bolted for the showers, barely pausing to grab sleeping clothes from their bags. The girls ducked under the red curtain, going their separate way with a brief wave, and then the boys all piled into the changing room. Each quickly peeled their clothes off, undoing their ties and buttons and tossing the dirty clothes into small baskets, their clean garments placed into lockers. Iida was the first to be done, narrowly beating Mineta, and the class representative glared, following the pouting pervert into the bathing room with towels, soap, and shampoo in their hands. Everyone let out a sigh of relief at that, and Shouji and a few other boys filed out after the notorious lecher, fully prepared to assist Iida in keeping Mineta's rabid hormones under control.

The changing room emptied quickly, as was expected. But when Izuku turned around to check for Kirishima – since Katsuki had started yelling in the onsen room – he paused. Hitsugaya was still sitting on the bench, fully clothed except for his shoes, socks, and his uniform tie. Izuku wandered over, realizing absently that he'd never seen Hitsugaya undress. Even when they were getting ready for practical exercises and had to change into the gym uniform, he'd always managed to be the last one to the locker room, or be already leaving just as everyone else was arriving.

"…Are you going to come with us, Hitsugaya-kun?"

The piercing glare that fell on him didn't seem so harsh anymore, more searching than anything by this point. Izuku didn't say anything after that, just waiting patiently for the white-haired boy to get his thoughts in order. Finally, Toushiro let out a sigh that was curiously huffy, a wry, bitter sort of smirk lifting one corner of his mouth.

"I…I'd like to, I'm just hesitating." His right knee came up to his chest, the same way it had on the bus when he'd finally admitted to his own loneliness and shattered ability to trust. "I suppose I'm just delaying the inevitable, sitting here."

Izuku tipped his head to the side, baffled by the comments, but then Hitsugaya looked up at him. The masklike ice so often present in that emerald glint had vanished, replaced by a gentle sparkle of mixed sincerity and vulnerability. The sudden soft openness of that expression was like a sucker-punch to the gut, and after moment Izuku had to remind himself to breathe. Toushiro didn't seem to notice – or if he did, he gave no indication that he'd seen the metaphorical knife stab through Izuku's heart.

"Would you help ground me if I start to slip into my own head, Midoriya?"

The answer came without thinking, before he even really knew what he was agreeing to, but he knew he wouldn't take the words back for the entire world.

"You don't even have to ask."

That simple phrase seemed to be all the motivation that Hitsugaya needed, and then the teenager took a deep breath and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. It only took a moment for him to peel the grimy piece of clothing off, but when the white material was finally out of the way everything made sense. Izuku felt his stomach lurch painfully, eyes widening, but aside from that he willed himself not to react. Hitsugaya seemed to be watching his reaction carefully, but when he made no immediate comment the teenager continued to undress, revealing even more. Suddenly Toushiro's attitude, his cold hardness, his reflexive distrust, even his incredible battle skills; it all made sense.

He'd never seen anyone with scars this massive before. Not even All Might.

One was long, thin and jagged, the skin smooth but a stark white compared to the rest of his golden torso, and it sliced over his right shoulder, traveling down and across Hitsugaya's back and front until it stopped at a point just above his navel. A second was almost perfectly circular and faintly pinkish, the skin pulled taut unevenly across his sternum, and when Hitsugaya turned sideways Midoriya caught sight of a matching patch of circular scarring a little higher up, just between Toushiro's shoulder blades. And a third was large, almost 5 centimeters thick, stretching from Hitsugaya's left shoulder all the way across his torso down to his right hip in whitish-pink fury. And while those three were the worst, there were others, fainter lines of white and pink that cut across Hitsugaya's limbs and torso at random angles.

Toushiro turned his head, reaching for his towel, and Izuku's breath caught as he saw the bold white line slicing low across the left side of Hitsugaya's throat beneath his voice box, passing directly over the carotid artery.

How many times had Hitsugaya looked death in the face and barely squeaked by?

"…you've really been through a lot, haven't you, Hitsugaya-kun?"

He didn't really know what possessed him to ask the question so bluntly, but it spilled out without any warning. Hitsugaya's scarred shoulderblades tightened, the scar tissue pulling white, the golden color of his unblemished skin shifting with lissome muscle. For the first time, Izuku saw the lean ripple down Toushiro's back, the unmistakably strong sinews pulling into sharp, smooth definition. Slowly, the cold teenager swiveled around to face him, revealing a lean, defined chest and abdomen under the scarring. Hitsugaya wasn't just scarred. He was fit, incredibly so if the lean sculpture of his upper body had any bearing on his resilience. Izuku went a bit pink in the face.

"My heart has stopped five times in total, if that's what you're asking," Toushiro said dryly, his grip tightening on the towel in his hand. Izuku drew his fractured attention to Toushiro's hand, noting that the other boy's fist was starting to shake. "Three times on the operating table and once en-route to the hospital."

"Oh my god," Izuku said weakly. "And you survived."

Hitsugaya laughed, short and bitter, but the anger wasn't directed at Izuku. It was aimless, a pent-up bark of strangled emotion directed at something or someone far away.

"Well, I wasn't breathing on my own for a while, but yes, I survived, or so I'd think."

Izuku nodded absently, still stricken, then shook himself and tried to focus. He'd already known that Hitsugaya had seen a lot – Aizawa had said as much just before the teenager had joined their class. But seeing the physical evidence scored into his friend's golden skin was an entirely different matter.

Then he realized that Hitsugaya's breathing had sped up, turning quick and shallow, his knuckles going white on the towel in his hand, and every shred of his own paralyzing astonishment and horror evaporated. He moved without thinking, gently placing both hands on Hitsugaya's bare shoulders and squeezing lightly. A fractured gaze found his face, a strange icy-blue glow radiating from deep within Hitsugaya's pupils, a yawning, alien sort of depth found there without warning. Izuku felt a distinct chill travel down his spine at the sight of that inhumanly glowing stare, but as Toushiro took a shuddering breath, gaze sliding in and out of focus on Izuku's freckles, the otherworldly gleam began to fade away.

"Hey…hey, Hitsugaya-kun, focus on me, okay? It's incredible that you survived whatever it was that gave you those scars, but right now we're both sweaty, tired, and sore, and a nice long soak in the onsen is probably going to feel incredible."

There was a vacant nod, the trembling of Hitsugaya's shoulders frighteningly violent, but he had bitten his lower lip, fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to block out the sensations spiking through his memory.

"…Yeah, yeah it will. Keep talking – it's helping." The reply was strangled but there and Izuku nodded encouragingly.

"I can barely remember the last time I went to the onsen – I think it was one of the public baths with my mom when I was an elementary schooler," he started to ramble, periodically giving his friend's shoulders a few light squeezes, and after a few minutes Hitsugaya relaxed. He held on for a few seconds longer, waiting anxiously for some sign that Toushiro was okay. And then the white-haired boy looked up, a wry quirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, Midoriya."

Izuku smiled brightly, utterly relieved that Hitsugaya had managed to pull himself out of the unpleasant memories, and after an awkward second he remembered to let go of Toushiro's lean shoulders.

"Of course, Hitsugaya-kun!"

They walked into the baths after another moment, Izuku slipping in first to see that most of the showers along the wall were either in use, save for a few on the end that Iida, Shouji, Kaminari and Sero had finished with. He and Hitsugaya moved towards these, avoiding immediate notice, and sat down on the stools beneath the water to shower. But as Izuku was finishing up, he swiveled around, glancing back over his shoulder to watch his classmates. Nobody had seemed to notice Hitsugaya's scarring yet, a small miracle in itself, but he knew it wouldn't last.

He made eye contact with Kaminari, and the blonde's eye traveled the few extra feet with ease. Instantly he saw the friendly teenager turn white with shock, and Midoriya suddenly found the fire of mild upset at Kaminari's overt reaction to be enough for his lips to press together in a thin line. Slowly, regaining eye contact with Kaminari, he shook his head, forcing as much ferocity as he could muster into that stern look. The blonde's mouth fell open in surprise, flickering from Hitsugaya to Midoriya and back again, then snapped shut. The boy nodded, understanding, and immediately turned to Kirishima, passing the message along into the redhead's ear.

Oh, thank goodness.

By the time the two of them were ready to get in the hot springs, the message had been passed around the entire group of boys, and as Izuku flittered over, Hitsugaya shadowing him like a nervous ghost, nobody even so much as mentioned it. Izuku sank gratefully into the spring, the heat of the milky mineral water soaking into his aching bones. There was a slight ripple as Toushiro slid into the water behind him, his movements hesitant. Before Hitsugaya could get upset at the lack of reaction Izuku turned around, folding his little towel and setting the dry cloth on top of his head.

"I told them not to say anything," he explained. Toushiro's eyes cleared, the sparkling jade glistening. A faint smile lifted his mouth, the gratitude of that expression utterly unmistakable.

"You're a good friend, Midoriya."

Then Hitsugaya ducked down until half of his face was submerged in the water, a content sigh escaping the teenager. Midoriya watched him settle onto an underwater rock ledge next to Todoroki, then splashed over to Iida just in time to watch Mineta surge out of the water and start climbing the wall hiding the girls' onsen. He sighed.

It had been a good day, overall.

* * *

 **Yay! This was a fun chapter to write. The pace starts to pick up in the next few chapters.**

 **As for the whole quantum-physics thing - here's a basic explanation. Reishi - the stuff Hitsugaya's body is made out of - isn't the same as normal atoms, the matter we can see and touch. It's more like dark matter, or negative matter, neither of which interact with the four forces governing the universe in the same way as the matter we're used to seeing. This is what enables Shinigami to pass through walls, what enables a soul to reside inside a human body, and etc. This abnormal matter (reishi) exists simultaneously with regular matter (kishi). In the Bleach-verse Living World, this abnormal matter is active, and in a constant state of flux due to Hollows & Shinigami constantly running around and pulling it towards them, and therefore there is enough ambient abnormal matter floating around that Shinigami and Hollows are hidden from living people. In the BnHA-verse, the abnormal matter is dormant, and is attracted to Hitsugaya because he's an 'active' version of this matter, creating a layer of reishi dense enough that people can see him. **

**So yeah...more on this to come, but these are theories I'm building off of.**

 **To the reviewer 'star': Aizawa is a fairly blunt individual, true. But he's also very protective of his students, as evidenced when he tells off some other pro-heroes over Bakugo. If he seems a little mushier than he is in the anime and manga, it's probably because I'm over-channeling that protective streak of his. I'm rather inexperienced writing the BnHA cast, after all - preventing a little OOC is going to be difficult. Please be patient with me! :) And concerning Monoma's Quirk. No. There's no way in heck he'd be able to become a shinigami just by touching Hitsugaya and using his Copy Quirk. He'd be able to replicate Hitsugaya's Quirk, but because of the way Toushiro's Quirk works he wouldn't appear to change at all. After all, Monoma has a human soul and human reiatsu, regardless of his body's physical capabilities. This is in part due to the quantum-physics explanation above.**


	19. Trust Like Glass

**A/N: So, there have been a few questions from the audience concerning various things - here I will answer for your convenience.**

 **What about Monoma? - He won't be able to turn into a Shinigami, if that's what you're thinking, and since he doesn't have a Zanpakutou he won't be able to copy Hitsugaya's Quirk, either. (I may have this frustrate him later)**

 **Will Hitsugaya change the plot, or is he along for the ride? - I'd go bonkers keeping the BnHA plot unchanged. Hitsugaya is a powerful character with a powerful personality, and that's going to affect the way people think.**

 **Will Kouta feature? - See the above answer. Long story short - he's mentioned. But things are changed.**

 **Tell me the pairing! - No I will not reveal the ship, yes I will make all of them fluffy and cute together because they are all pure little muffins except the grape insect, deal with it, lol.**

 **Now, I will once again plug my tumblr. If you search the tag #myart on my tumblr, you should be able to see all of the fanart (and a few doodles) that I have posted from this story. The most recent sketch (tagged with #progression3) is the HitsuSquad, XD.**

 **And most importantly...**

 **THANK YOU FOR 500+ follows, 400+ favorites, and 300+ reviews. This is officially my most popular story, and it isn't even half the length of 'Transition Period' yet! (It's also not even halfway done yet :S)**

* * *

"…Kid – er, the white-haired one – yeah, come here, would you?"

Hitsugaya winced as he shakily deactivated his Quirk, his skin cracking horribly again, beads of blood sitting on the surface of his hands and arms. He could barely flex his fingers without his skin flaking, and the stiff dryness of his arms and shoulders was nearly painful. He felt felt parched, withered like a dried fruit in the sun. The slight creak of his skin made him grit his teeth, but he walked carefully over to Pixiebob and Aizawa. The dark-haired teacher very gently took his flaking hands, touching the cracking skin as lightly as he could, and started to spread some of Recovery Girl's medicated lotion around. Toushiro hissed but stayed still, nose wrinkling up.

"Can you activate this Quirk of your elsewhere, perhaps _not_ on your hands?" Aizawa's tone was light, but it was clear from the way that his messy hair cast an even larger shadow over his eyes than usual that he was irritated by the setback. Toushiro bit his lower lip, also annoyed beyond words by this nonsense. He'd had the same issue yesterday, but it had taken at least another four hours to get this bad.

"Not on purpose," he admitted with a scowl. He glanced up, watching as Bakugo snarled ferociously, struggling to make explosions over a large basin of boiling water. He could feel Pixiebob's eyes on him, her cheeks sucked in in upset and irritation.

"Well, I think it's pretty clear that you should rest your Quirk now," the catwoman's tone was kind but quite firm. "It will probably be counterproductive to dehydrate your skin any further than this."

Hitsugaya's upper lip peeled back in feral distaste, but he knew that Pixiebob was right. The severity of his chapped skin was worrisome, especially considering his absolute dominion over ice, water, and weather in general. It almost seemed like he had windburn, like he'd been fighting a dry headwind for hours on end, but he knew that wasn't true. With a grimace, he pulled his hands out of Aizawa's grip, wincing as salt sweat trickled down his shoulder and into the crackling cuts in his forearms. A slight tightness pinched unpleasantly at his temples.

After he'd been ushered back inside the lodge by Aizawa, he sat down at one of the tables, gingerly cradling a tall glass of water in his hands. He'd been using his Quirk for only an hour since lunch had ended, but that combined with the time spent this morning and the damage he'd done yesterday had already caused enough damage to make even holding the glass difficult. Annoyed, he leaned back in the chair, biting his lower lip, foot tapping restlessly on the floor. At least there was air conditioning inside the building – the last thing he needed right now was to deal with his salt sweat stinging the cracked skin. He took a long draught of the water, draining the glass in almost one go, and set the empty cup down on the rough-grain oak slab in front of him.

He blinked. Twice. And then raised his hands to shoulder height, staring at the smooth back of his palms in disbelief. Absently, he became aware of the slow flush of coolness spreading throughout his biceps and forearms, the rejuvenated trickle much like water running over top of his skin. And as that current of liquid coolness spread down his limbs, the cracks in his dry skin began to heal over, the dryness fading.

 _Dehydration_. Of course.

If this Quirk really was the manifestation of Hyourinmaru's power, then of _course_ the root of all his problems would be related to Hyourinmaru's disadvantages. He'd always known that Hyourinmaru had trouble in a hot, dry environment where there was little water in the atmosphere to draw on, and subsequently had to generate that water himself. His Quirk had to be the same way – every time the scales manifested, he was dehydrating himself and the skin he was turning to scales. Therefore, constantly having a supply of water would be key in keeping his skin from cracking.

He stood, walked to the sink to refill his cup, and darted back outside, still sipping on the water. If he could figure out a way to properly control this new ability, it would be useful for defending himself against the other humans in this world. After all, it wasn't like he could unleash Hyourinmaru against them, and while Shunpo would likely be effective and low-reiatsu enough to both take down anyone who attacked him and keep the effect of his unequivocally dense reiryoku on human souls to a minimum, that marginal effect that exposure would have on human souls would build up over time.

That slow, gradual effect was best expressed by the effect of Midoriya and All Might's buzzing, not-quite-shinigami-reiatsu on his spiritual body – the effect which had resulted in his Quirk. And the last thing he needed was humans in an _alternate dimension_ running around with shinigami powers.

Aizawa glanced up at him as he walked out, smirking with a hint of triumph. Muggy air clumped unpleasantly around his body as he stepped outside the air-conditioned building, but he bore with the sucking heat and held up an unblemished hand. Aizawa's eyes widened in surprise.

"…What did you do?"

Hitsugaya held up the glass of water, again draining the clear liquid before he spoke.

"Dehydration."

The simple word made a wide, toothy smile spread across Aizawa's stubbly, sallow face, and he stood with in a single fluid motion. Hitsugaya noted absently that he was still wearing black. All black. In the middle of the afternoon. How was this man still alive? He would have keeled over from heatstroke by this point.

"You're getting a hydration pack, then." Aizawa's scraggly hair flopped down into his eye. "Now keep practicing. Stop and take a drink the second you notice your skin starting to get dry, and record the time interval. If I catch you cracking your skin or lying about the time intervals, you're running laps until _I_ get tired."

With a well-oiled click, the precise clockwork of Hitsugaya's brain shifted forward. He nodded, instantly understanding.

"You want to know how long it takes the natural water in my skin cells to dry up before I need to replenish that store, and if I can be trained to increase the time interval since I still cannot force the scales to spread over my back or sprout the wings and tail you said I had."

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and nodded, looking unusually serious for once – the kind of brooding, stern serious very unlike his usual apathetic _why-me_ gloom. The roar of Todoroki's fire crackled in the distance, the grunts and yells of his students' effort echoing around the valley.

"Yes. If you can't currently manifest the wings and tail, or the other abilities that seem to come along with the full usage of your Quirk, then you're going to train to increase your Quirk endurance until you drop. No breaks. Get to it." The explanation was exactly what Hitsugaya had been expecting. A blessed breeze ruffled his white hair, shifting a few of the sweat-slicked strands away from his face.

He spent the rest of the day shifting his hands, forearms, lower back, and chest into glittering dragonscales, Hyourinmaru's power rippling gently through his reishi. And with every tug on the strange not-quite muscle that seemed to shift his skin, a few less scales appeared, as if his body was getting tired out by the repeated transformation. It almost felt like weightlifting, the resistance of the scales making each repetition a little harder. And once his skin began to become chapped, he took a long draught of water from the hydration backpack Mandalay-san had found for him. The rehydration was probably the most pleasant part of the entire process – he could literally feel the flood of cool water coursing through his veins, twining with his reishi. Even better, each time he drank, the soreness in the muscle that didn't seem to truly exist vanished, and his ability to spread the scales over his body grew a little stronger.

By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted and hungry enough to eat the passable assortment of items that the student cooks deemed edible, even him, although thankfully Aizawa-sensei had glared enough to cow everyone into taking a bath and changing into clean summer clothes. He sat by Todoroki, who had put his head down on the table immediately after finishing his second helping of everything, the faintest traces of soot still evident in the white half of his hair. The heterchromatic teenager barely grunted a hello, obviously beat. Hitsugaya chuckled a bit, faring much better than the rest of his classmates, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

"You thought that was hard, didn't you?" he asked, a note of mocking amusment in his voice. Todoroki slid a slitted glance to him.

"…not all of us are superhuman, Hitsugaya-kun," the boy groaned. "…unh, my fingers are still shaking…"

Hitsugaya's amused smirk shrank into a quizzical tilt of his head and a slender raised eyebrow. A flicker of apprehension caused a ripple in his gut.

"Superhuman?"

Then Ojiro, who was sitting tiredly on his other side, looked up with a knowing glance.

"Your tenacity and stamina, Hitsugaya-kun," the tailed teen explained with a low sigh. "From simple observation, it is easy to tell that your strength and endurance are top-notch. You could not be so skilled at using martial arts in combat otherwise."

"Not to mention every fucker who's ever tried to kill you is apparently a shitty imbecile, because they _all_ fucked it up."

Hitsugaya stiffened a little bit, meeting Bakugo's scarlet glare from across the table. The boys went quiet, their voices failing them, and almost everyone turned to look at Katsuki with some measure of incredulity. The girls exchanged confused looks, puzzled by the boys' sudden silence.

"..you truly have no concept of the meaning of the word 'tact,' do you, Bakugo-kun?" Iida bit out, his voice like sour acid. Hitsugaya raised a hand, flashing the bookish boy a warning glance of icy jade. Katsuki snorted in dersion, sneering at Iida with a toothy leer.

"I'm just saying that the marshmallow fucker is either a damn lucky bastard or he's damn hard to kill," the blonde snarled, lifting his nose into the air. "Shitty loser like him is too damn stupid to know when to get tired enough to die."

A sudden chill rolled through the room, Hitsugaya's skin glinting faintly with crystals of ice. Todoroki's breath came out in puff of condensation, and everyone glared at him. He shook his head in denial, tracing the frost on the table in awe.

"No."

Toushiro couldn't help how tight his voice was, and slowly he stood up, every single muscle in his body taut with suppressed emotion. His knees locked, calves straining, a vein protruding from the side of his neck and throwing the white scar on his throat into sharp relief, the low collar of his black cotton turtleneck revealing the old injury for the first time. Yaoyorozu saw it after a moment, her dark eyes going wide.

"I knew when to die," he said, hissing the words at a startled Bakugo. "And _god_ , did I ever wish for it. I would have _begged_ for it if I had thought it would help. But when you're at someone else's mercy, under their absolute control, you don't _have_ that option."

He turned away, leaving half his plate untouched and his classmates silent.

"It's not that I was too strong to die – it's that I was too weak to," he spat. "Don't try and help me by feeding me flattery and lies based on your own skewed worldviews. I won't accept that as help – that's base ingratiation to make yourselves feel good, so you can tell yourselves that you made the poor traumatized kid feel better. Fuck off, all of you."

He felt a hand clamp onto the middle of his back and without thinking he whirled around at full shinigami speed, gripping his assailant by the throat and slamming them into the table with a feral snarl. Wide green eyes stared up at him, Midoriya's fingers wrapping weakly around the crushing grip on his neck. Hitsugaya started with a soft breath, instantly releasing his friend and stumbling backwards. Izuku choked, then started coughing violently, turning onto his side as he fought to regain his breath. Iida and Uraraka got up and ran over, helping the green-headed boy to sit-up and slide off the table, and Hitsugaya saw a hand briefly flicker into his line of sight before he was yanked backward, Aizawa locking an arm around his chest.

There was the slight tinkle of breaking glass as the little boy, Kouta, dropped his cup. Iida stared, massaging Midoriya's back.

"You went for Midoriya's throat," he said weakly. Hitsugaya let out a hollow laugh.

"Of course," he replied. Bitterness clung to his vocal cords and saturated his words, leftover rage at Bakugo's imbecilic, ignorant commentary on his _tenacity_ bubbling on his tongue. "You didn't really think I got my scars because I was running away, did you? It's instinct for me to go for the throat by this point."

"Hitsugaya-kun. Enough."

Aizawa's arm tightened across his chest, the low note of disapproval echoing in Hitsugaya's ear. Toushiro had to fight not to draw the blade belted over his bare shoulder, not to react with tension or hostility, and he was pretty sure that Aizawa felt him stiffen with the effort. But the pro stayed still, waiting, and after a moment he ground his teeth together and forced himself to go limp. Ragdoll, Pixiebob, and Tora all watched in silence, the three Pussycats' members placing themselves at strategic points around the room as unobtrusively as they could. Mandalay exchanged a long look with his teacher over his head.

"…I think it's best if he sits out on the evening activities, Eraserhead. He seems like he needs some space to calm down."

Rage boiled in blinding potency on his tongue, but he bit his lip and kept that seething anger buried deep in his heart, saying nothing and doing nothing, reducing himself to nothing more than a pretty doll. And then Midoriya spoke up, still a little breathless. But his voice was strong and reassuring, only a touch nervous.

"Hitsugaya-kun, I'm so sorry – I didn't even think about what I was doing," he apologized, his voice kind. Iida suddenly went stiff, more out of surprise than anger, Hitsugaya could tell, but still with some lingering indignation.

"Midoriya-kun, you didn't do anything wrong – Hitsugaya-san attacked you, not the other way around…" the class representative's voice trailed off, obviously baffled as to why Izuku was apologizing, but the green-haired boy was already shaking his head.

"It probably felt like an attack to Hitsugaya-kun – I approached from his blind spot by mistake." Izuku's tone of voice was amicable, if still a touch faint. "Just after Kacchan had to go and be Kacchan too."

"The hell is that supposed to mean, shitty Deku?"

"A-ah, it's just…you sort of complimented Hitsugaya-kun and sort of didn't at the same time, and he didn't agree with what you were trying to say at all, so he was already tense when I came up behind him…"

Toushiro took a deep breath and cut Bakugo off before the blonde could respond. The floorboards were a rather nice shade of yellow pine, he noticed, staring fixedly down at one of the dark knots in the woodgrain. Aizawa carefully loosened his grip, releasing Hitsugaya.

"It's not your fault, Midoriya – it's mine."

The apology stuck in his teeth, but as he looked up he saw dark bruises forming on either side of Midoriya's trachea, the guilt sank into his gut like a ball of lead. His eyes flickered to the ground again.

 _You always hurt the people closest to you, Hitsugaya-_ _taicho_ _. First Obaa-chan, then the Kusaka boy you were friends with, then Rangiku-san, and of course, me!_

He snarled, Hinamori's hurtful screeching echoing in his ears, but he couldn't see anything but truth in that statement. A bitter smile touched his golden face. So Midoriya would be added to that list now, would he?

"I'm sorry, Midoriya."

He could almost sense Izuku's frown before he looked up and saw it.

"Don't apologize to me for that, Hitsugaya-kun. As you said – it's your instinct to go for the throat when you're threatened," Izuku replied kindly, but there was a bit of sternness entering his voice. "Just don't ever say that you were 'too weak' to die. Don't say that ever again. That sounds to me like you're giving up on yourself, and I won't let you do that."

Ah. There it was. That iron-straight backbone that hid behind Midoriya's sunshiny smile and endearing freckled cheeks. That pure strength that Momo had never possessed. That inner willpower, inner fortitude that had made Hitsugaya gravtitate towards the shy teenager from the beginning. Toushiro relaxed, gaze softening slightly, and looked at the bruises on the sides of Midoriya's throat again. He had to fix his own damn mistakes, regardless of the cost.

…maybe he should start here. Aizawa already knew anyways. Midoriya could attribute it to the same experimentation thing that Nedzu had.

Without thinking any further, he was moving forward, hands coming up to gently cup over the bruises on either side of Midoriya's neck above the collar of the dark polo. Izuku froze, stilling in surprise as Toushiro's chilling palms came into contact with his throat. Iida, Uraraka and Aizawa all took a few steps forward, hovering anxiously. Toushiro let out a long, slow breath, a soft mist of cold air puffing from between his lips.

"Don't freak out."

Reiatsu gathered in the palms of his hands, the reiatsu vents that shinigami had on their wrists coming unsealed for the first time in ages, and his fingertips began to glow, the harsh chill of his reiryoku refined into something soothing and soft, a gentle coldness more suitable for a snowy day than a blizzard. The healing kido quickly blossomed in his hands, the green shimmer of power around his knuckles and fingertips swirling gently. The soft gasp of shock from someone off to his right was ignored, the world around him dulled as he gave his concentration to the power swirling around his hands. His powerful reiryoku boiled beneath the limiter and the viselike grip he was keeping on it, the slow, incremental release of his power just enough to fuel the healing kido. He wouldn't usually take this much care with the amout of reiatsu he let loose while healing, but now he needed only the barest amount possible to limit interference caused by his powers.

Izuku stared, gasping at the prickling tingle Hitsugaya knew was seeping into his neck and mending the bruises he'd put there. It only took a moment. And then Hitsugaya sealed his reiryoku again, cutting off the flow of his power to the spell, and the healing kido flickered and died, revealing Izuku's smooth skin beneath.

And now…

 _Trust inspires trust._

"…recovery from torture and experimentation," Hitsugaya said, his voice just loud enough to carry through the whole class, "is not as easy as you'd think."

It clicked. He could almost see the pieces slotting into place in his classmates' minds, the slow droop of Izuku's eyebrows as the green-headed boy realized what his friend was doing. Aizawa glanced down at the white-haired student.

"…You didn't have to tell them, Hitsugaya-kun. It's enough that Nedzu and the staff know."

Hitsugaya shrugged, hands dropping back to his sides, and flexed his fingers.

"Midoriya already figured it out," he countered softly, "He hasn't treated me any differently. It was time they all made their own decisions about me and why I believe what I do."

The tightly-laced black boots, courtesy of Yaoyorozu, squeaked piercingly on the wooden floor and Hitsugaya drew away, ghosting towards the boys' dorm. Then he glanced up at Mandalay, his green gaze piercing, a frosty chill deadening that cold glare. He slid the door to the boys' dorm open. Suddenly his shoulders were full of tension again, the anger obviously only dissipating long enough for him to heal Midoriya's neck. The sleeveless black turtleneck – was it even a turtleneck? It barely covered the bottom two centimeters of skin of his throat – didn't hide the tautness of those corded muscles in the slightest. Hitsugaya's knuckles went white on the doorframe.

"I will stay here tonight."

And then he disappeared into the large room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Class 1-A, minus a sobbing Ashido, Kaminari, Sato, Kirishima, and Sero, met with Class 1-B outside, somewhat stricken by the latest of Hitsugaya's revelations. Kendo waved a hello at their class, noting with a raised eyebrow that the smaller class looked subdued and were all muttering distractedly. Midoriya was the only one who seemed somewhat normal, if a bit pale, and he kept poking at the sides of his neck in awe.

"That had to have been a third Quirk, right?"

"It's simply impossible that he has three _entirely independent_ Quirks – his brain wouldn't have the neurological capacity to process so much in a simultaneous timeframe."

"You forget that he also tied Bakugo-kun's hands behind him at the Sports Festival, kero."

"Is that a fourth Quirk or just part of his quantum-physics-bypassing Quirk, though? Theoretically he could have just manipulated those non-interacting particles to increase gravity or something…"

"I just pointed out that no human possesses the neurological capacity-"

"Nobody even fucking cares, shitty Deku, and shut the hell up, Four Eyes! Fucking nerds."

"No wonder he's so pessimistic all the time – how much has he _seen_? How much has been _done_ to him that we don't know about?"

"Eh, Jirou-san, you girls didn't see his scars, did you? By all rights he should be dead at least twice over…"

"Holy shit…"

"I still can't get over that he said 'experimentation' like it was nothing- god, I think I'm going to be sick just thinking about it."

Kendo cleared her throat, causing the soft murmuring to cease as Class 1-A collectively began to realize that Class 1-B was ogling them in confusion, minus Monoma. The orange-haired girl smiled faintly, looking concerned.

"Are you all alright? You guys look a little…strained," she asked kindly, skimming the crowd of fifteen students. Her nose wrinkled up. "And Hitsugaya-san is missing."

Iida nodded respectfully, a little paler than normal, and his hands clamped tightly to his sides as he spoke with peculiar tension.

"…Hitsugaya-kun felt that he should sit out, and Mandalay-san and Aizawa-sensei agreed." Iida hesitated, however, his glasses flashing. Then he lowered his head a bit, obvious worry settling into the chiseled line of his jaw. "And on top of that, Hitsugaya-kun has finally begun to open up to Class 1-A as a whole, and portions of his past are admittedly horrific, more so than many of us were expecting."

Midoriya looked up at that, the forest-color of his large eyes hardening to dark emerald determination. His gaze fixed on Iida, and as Kendo watched in surprise, Todoroki mirrored that determined, somewhat stern expression, the heterochromatic teenager's slitted glare considerably harsher than Midoriya's. She blinked, puzzling over that for a moment, then tapped a finger against her chin and refocused on Iida.

"More than you were expecting? That's…" she found herself struggling for the proper words for a moment. "I can't even imagine what he said."

Iida let out a long, deep breath, then shook his head with a downcast frown.

"It's incredible that he trusted us enough to say anything at all," Iida said, his voice softening into raw emotion – rare from the bookworm class rep of 1-A. "I think…I think he only revealed it to push us away, and that truly frightens me."

Behind him, Midoriya and Todoroki relaxed, as if they'd been afraid that Iida would say anything about Hitsugaya's revelation – whatever it was – to her, and after a brief moment Todoroki strode up to stand at Iida's shoulder, his expression still that stern, icy determination.

"Kendo-san, I hope you don't mind if we don't tell you guys what Hitsugaya-kun said," he told her, apologetic but very firm. "I don't think we should betray his trust like that, especially not now, when he expects people to be backstabbing and cruel for no reason."

Kendo blinked in surprise, not quite shocked by the declaration but more so by the notes of apology that came along with it. Class 1-A all exchanged significant looks, obviously coming to a consensus in line with what Todoroki had said. She nodded, not quite understanding their reasoning, and folded her hands behind her.

"…Just let him know that he's more than welcome to trust Class 1-B as well," she said, keeping her voice level. Todoroki blinked, his mismatched eyes softening somewhat.

"I will mention it – but don't be surprised if you don't hear anything for a year or so. It took him three months, and he's in class with us for eight hours every day."

Well. That did put things in perspective. Yui-chan shot her a wide gaze, the quiet girl's mouth tightening at the corners, and Kendo smiled at her friend, understanding that Yui-chan's attitude was indicative of the whole class. Then Mandalay-san, Ragdoll-san, Tora-san, and Pixiebob-san came out, and the thoughts of Hitsugaya's strangeness was put out of her mind.

* * *

 **Please leave reviews to tell me what you think! It can be a line you like, an error you caught, even a question about spoiler-type things (especially if you like being trolled in answer to your questions XD). Best review gets a spoiler - though I will ask if you want one first, no worries.**

 **~avtorSola**


	20. Stormbringer

**A/N: Finally, a fight scene! XD**

 **Also, just a little note. I've looked this up - 133cm, Hitsugaya's height throughout all of Bleach, is around the average height for an eight-year-old boy. Here, he's just under 170cm, and is about fifteen/sixteenish. That means he's also correspondingly stronger than he is in the Bleach series, since we know from his adult form existing that his child-body can't actually handle his full power. I have thus taken the liberty to modify a few of his attacks and powers. It's not a huge deal, but just a warning that he's not limited to his canon attacks (not that much has changed! I've just modified some of his existing abilities is all)**

 **Anyway, have fun and enjoy! You're all a blessing, let me tell you. :)**

* * *

Poor Ashido-san, Midoriya thought, feeling sorry the five students that had failed the practical exam, and Monoma. The scare-circuit – Quirks allowed! – sounded like a lot of fun, if a little spooky, and the idea of scaring the living daylights out of Class 1-B broke the entire class from the pensive funk that had swallowed them up after Hitsugaya-kun's quiet challenge.

Iida had been right when he'd said that Hitsugaya-kun had only revealed the nature of what he'd gone through in order to scare everyone away. It was obvious – Hitsugaya-kun had been furious with Kacchan for complimenting his ability to stay alive, and disgusted that Kacchan had thought that tenacity was strength (wasn't it?) so he'd taken it out on the entire class and accused them of self-serving pity.

Considering that Hitsugaya had been so alone and exploited for so long, it made sense that he'd see that base lack of understanding as a selfish attempt to make themselves feel like real heroes, real friends. And so he'd lashed out, snarled about the horrors he'd suffered in an attempt to cut out those false people. And now he was sequestering himself, cutting himself off from interaction with his classmates.

Midoriya resolved to talk to him later that evening, and to bring Todoroki-kun along as well. The ice-and-fire user seemed to have the unique ability to both enrage and calm Hitsugaya-kun, to both remind the suffering boy of his different worldviews and to challenge those views.

And Izuku knew that Hitsugaya considered him to be a friend. He'd seen the flash of guilt and horror flicker through those startlingly jade eyes when he'd been pinned, when Hitsugaya had snapped out faster than he could see and slammed him down to the countertop. The second Toushiro had recognized him, he'd let go and reared back. That had to count for something. But for now, Hitsugaya needed space to calm down, to reattach himself to reality. So he'd wait until later to talk with the white-haired boy.

He watched, craning his neck eagerly to see which directions Class 1-B was scattering. Kodai-san and Kendo-san were walking off in a group of six, heading towards the right side of the big loop that everyone was going to walking in, and Ragdoll was with them, heading towards the midway checkpoint where she would be handing out markers to show which groups had passed her by. They were quickly lost to Izuku's sight, disappearing ominously behind dark trees and thick undergrowth, and before long, even the rustling of their footprints died away, leaving Class 1-A alone in the clearing with Tora, Mandalay, and Pixebob. Then Pixiebob held out a bunch of straws, grinning widely.

"Alright you lot, pick straws now! Whoever has a matching length is your partner for the duration of this exercise – and unfortunately, there should be one of you who ends up alone."

Everyone drew straws, and almost immediately, Bakugo exploded into violent protestations – he'd been paired with Todoroki. Mineta, in his way, was also harassing Aoyama to switch, and a grateful Yaoyorozu appeared quite thankful that Aoyama was consistently refusing. Midoriya couldn't help but whimper a little bit, however, when he drew the shortest straw and ended up alone. Bakugo and Todoroki were the first pair to go, and everyone cheered as they set off into the woods. Izuku waved as they disappeared around a bend in the path. Mandalay waited for five minutes, glancing occasionally at her timer, and sent Tokoyami and Shouji down the path.

And then, just as they'd disappeared, the doors to the lodge burst open with a deafening bang. Hitsugaya had thrown them open, an expression of breaking panic storming over his white brows. The black sort-of turtleneck he wore was a bit rumpled, his white hair standing on end, and the army-green shorts he wore were a bit messy as well, as if he'd just woken up from sleeping in his clothes. The blade strapped to his back glinted as he sprinted forward, the sheer urgency in the harsh line of his lips unsettling.

"Pull everyone back to the lodge!" He yelled, not even a sliver of room for argument in his tone. "A high-grade Hollow just appeared out there! It rendezvoused with ten human signatures I don't recognize!"

As Mandalay, Pixiebob, and Tora exchanged confused, somewhat concerned looks, Hitsugaya's hand snapped back to the hilt of the blade buckled over his shoulder and drew the sheathed sword in a single fluid motion, his stance wide and low. Izuku watched, stunned, as the sharp blade tore through its sheath like paper, the indigo material dissolving into speckles of glimmering blue-white light. Hitsugaya turned a piercing glare onto him.

"Midoriya, Iida-san, get all of Class 1-A back to the lodge!" he shouted. Suddenly panic slashed across his face like a razor blade had cut his jaw, and he threw his free hand out.

"Everyone, g _et down!_ "

There was a single beat of silence, and Izuku dropped without questioning why, the clarity in Hitsugaya's eyes convincing him without question, and he heard the grunts as his classmates followed suit. But as soon as his hands hit the ground, Class 1-A huddling towards the three Pussycats, the sky lit up in poisonous, purplish-pink light and an earsplitting, continuous screech like tearing metal reverberated in the the valley, wind ripping through the trees with incredible force. On the ground Izuku yelled in shock, clawing at the dirt to stay put, but his voice was torn away by the sheer force of the gusting gale. The cacophonous sounds and insane winds lasted an entire minute, several trees falling as a result of that pinkish-purple explosion, and then everything went terrifyingly quiet and still.

"…Everyone, up. Hurry and get inside. That was a war cry."

The voice was Hitsugaya's, unusually calm despite the _absolutely terrifying explosion_ that had just occurred, and Izuku forced himself to get up. His classmates, seeing him moving, followed suit, many of them blown several feet away from where they'd started. Hitsugaya was the only one on his feet, his hair blown into crazy spikes, and as Izuku stumbled up the white-haired boy turned to the Pussycats – all of whom had clung onto trees.

"Mandalay-san, use your Telepathy to tell everyone to regroup back here at the lodge," he commanded, steel in his gaze and stance. "Ragdoll is down – her presence is weak, so she's likely injured, and the ten humans I sensed earlier are closing in on this location in a loop. I would assume they are enemies, given that I cannot recognize them."

There was a stunned pause, Mandalay, Pixiebob, and Tora all staring at Hitsugaya in something like abject horror. Toushiro turned on them, his teeth bared in a feral snarl, and raised the blade in his hand to a more ready position, finally placing his other hand on the hilt.

"Holy- fucking _move_! I thought you were professionals! Iida-san, keep accountability of 1-A, tell Kendo-san to keep accountability of 1-B. Aizawa-sensei and Kan-san should keep watch on the perimeter of the building with the Pussycats, and tell me as soon as you have full accountability."

Thankfully, his harsh words had stirred something in the Pussycats, because they were moving, Mandalay with her echoing thoughts, Tora with his extreme flexibility in weaving through trees at high speeds, and Pixiebob with her earth-manipulation. Izuku began to run towards the lodge, helping the more disoriented of his classmates along as he did so. Aizawa and Class 1-B's homeroom teacher, Kan-sensei, ran outside to help usher the kids in as well, and as a few members of Class 1-B hurried out of the woods, guarded by two of Pixiebob's large earthy creatures, a sudden thought struck Izuku.

"Hitsugaya-kun, come on!"

He wasn't going to question how Hitsugaya knew where everyone was, or question what a Hollow was, or even wonder why the teenager had managed to so effortlessly take control of the situation. But he'd be damned before Hitsugaya put himself in danger so that the rest of them could be safe. Toushiro shot a glance back at him, sparing a brief second of reassuring calmness before returning his attention to the woods. Iida noticed.

"Hitsugaya-kun, what are you doing?!" he shouted.

And suddenly Toushiro's lips split in a nasty grin, something more akin to a snarl than a smile, and an inhuman glow sparked in brilliant icy blue at the center of Hitsugaya's jade eyes. Aizawa looked up from hustling his students inside, dark eyes suddenly gleaming red, his hair standing on end. Hitsugaya glanced at him with that same feral grin. Izuku gaped as wisps of white-blue light began to leak from the corners of Hitsugaya's once-green eyes, which were now shining with arctic power.

Aizawa's Quirk wasn't working on Hitsugaya.

"I'm drawing the Hollow out." The teenager's voice was strong, every muscle in that lean figure like a coiled spring. "Whatever you do, keep your distance from the Hollow and I. Hollows eat humans – and this one is powerful enough to knock you all out with just his Hollow-abilities alone. I'm going to put up a barrier around the lodge to protect you, but since not all of Class 1-B is back yet, I'll modify it to allow humans to pass through. You'll have to fend off the villains yourselves from there – if any of them can claw their way through my power."

Izuku's face paled as his friend smirked that nasty smirk again, a golden matrix of light suddenly flashing into his hands, and he reached out. Without thinking precisely about what he was doing, Izuku ran towards him, intent on dragging his friend to safety.

"Hitsugaya-kun, don't!"

"Bakudo no Nanajuusan! Tozanshou! Ningenkakkuu!"

Izuku squalled, rearing back in shock as translucent golden light suddenly formed a gleaming prism around the lodge, in the interesting shape of an inverted pyramid. The golden light slammed into the ground in front of his nose, shimmering with strange, otherworldly power and as everyone watched, openmouthed, the whole massive prism of golden light faded into a translucent sheen on the air. Hitsugaya just watched their reactions, that eerie icy white-blue light completely dominiating the usual rich jade of his eyes. Hesitantly, Izuku reached out and placed a hand on the air in front of him, then yelped again as golden light blossomed around his fingertips as they slid easily through the barrier.

"…Hitsugaya-kun, what even _is_ your Quirk?" Yaoyorozu whimpered faintly, from somewhere behind the astonished Izuku. Hitsugaya laughed a little bit, the sound surprisingly kind though laced with cold bitterness.

"Do you really think that everything I can do is the result of a simple Quirk at this point?"

Izuku looked up, understanding snapping through his mind like a thunderclap. _Experimentation_. Hitsugaya had been – at some point in his life – a human experiment. So those abilities, the super-high-speed, the sword skills, the healing both of others and his own accelerated healing factor, the weird thing he'd done just now and also the weird thing he'd done to Kacchan during the Sports Festival…they weren't Quirks at all. Just the results of the torment he'd undergone. And so the scale-dragon Quirk that he'd just developed…it had to have been suppressed by the trauma he'd gone through.

That was his original Quirk. Everything else was…was the product of torture. Or…

 _Had he been created by All-For-One?_

Then Hitsugaya's fingertips drifted to hover over a point on his collarbone hidden by his sleeveless semi-turtleneck, a grin on his lips. He let out a soft sigh. And then he curled his pointer and thumb in towards his palm, and a faint white light glimmered through the fine cloth of his shirt.

"Gentei Kaijo!"

Izuku blinked in surprise. What limit was Hitsugaya releasing? Nothing happened for a long moment. And then Hitsugaya's entire body began to glow with whitish-blue light, the burn of that illumation burning colder and brighter with every passing second until it formed a nimbus of snapping winter energy around Toushiro's lean frame. Thunder split the summer air, the once-cloudless sky slowly beginning to scud over with swirling storm clouds, and as he watched, the crackling sphere of nebulous power spiked, sending a pillar of glowing blue-white light high into the air until it pierced the clouds. The storm above began to churn around that crackling point, lightning flashing violently in the air, and a bitterly cold wind suddenly gusted through the clearing.

He couldn't help the cry of shock and cold that came from the arctic breeze suddenly cutting him to the bone, but he wasn't the only one. Shihai Kuroiro from Class 1-B also yelped at the cold, as did Tsuyu-chan, Mineta, Aoyama, Jirou, Uraraka, and Ojiro. But then the light from Toushiro's strange limit releasing died down, and his brilliantly white hair fell more naturally around his ears.

The sharp screech of metal on metal split the clearing, orange sparks flying in brutal splendor as a young, effeminate man with short black hair appeared out of nowhere, blurring into existence with a bloodthirsty sneer, and cracks split the ground beneath Toushiro's feet as he effortlessly blocked the overhead strike. The young villain also had a blade, a traditional wakizashi blade much shorter than Hitsugaya's long, lean tachi, and it was this that grated so awfully against Toushiro's sword. The young man's lavender eyes were wide in fury, stitches running up and down the sides of his face, three pink diamonds above his left eyebrow.

"You! You arrogant son-of-a-bitch twerp, I'll rip your head off and crush it between my two hands!"

Hitsugaya laughed – _laughed_ – in the mysterious villain's face and suddenly shoved, forcing the villain off-balance. He spun with all the grace of a dancer, backflipping over the short blade and turned his body mid-flip, rotating once.

"As if you could, _Hollow_. What happened to being Kurotsuchi's slave?" he taunted, slicing sideways at the young man's unprotected back, still airborne. The blow was parried, orange sparks flying again, but a deep gouge sliced into the earth beneath the villain's feet, following the path of Toushiro's serpentine strike. It seemed to infuriate the villain – hollow? How was he hollow? – even more, and right in front of Izuku's disbelieving eyes the man blurred out of existence and reappeared behind Hitsugaya's back.

He cried out a warning that was lost in the sound of grinding metal. Hitsugaya had somehow spun fully around in a single eye-blink and blocked a blow Izuku had never seen start, eyes glowing with that unearthly light.

"Souten ni zase…Hyourinmaru!"

Izuku's ears popped suddenly, and he bit back a muffled yelp as the temperature and barometric pressure suddenly dropped rapidly, plummeting like a stone. Wind howled in the sky above, and the gloomy grumbling clouds broke open, unleashing lightning and hail and sleet and rain in vivid winter fury. Toushiro's blade gleamed white, a long chain with a crescent blade materializing in icy blue-white light on the end of the blade and as the effeminate villain leapt away, hissing in distaste, Toushiro slashed down at the air between them.

Ice and water rippled from the length of the silver sword, the low, terrifying roar of a massive beast echoing through the valley as the crescent of ice took shape, swirling into a massive dragon with pitiless scarlet eyes. The dragon flew in circles around Hitsugaya, protecting him thrice, ice flaking from its glistening suface and frosting over the ground with thick, glassy rime. Ice had slicked through Hitsugaya's white hair, turning the soft white tufts spiky and dangerous, and frost clung to his lips and cheek, turning his golden skin pale and frozen.

The tip of Hitsugaya's blade flicked. Izuku blinked. The dragon was gone – in it's place the entire left half of the woods surrounding the lodge had been frozen over in a layer of bluing ice thick enough that the tops of the trees had been covered, and massive spires of glistening glacial beauty towered at least ninety meters in the air, splaying outwards from the line gouged into the earth where the villain had been standing.

Hitsugaya glanced casually over at his classmates and teacher, seemingly unaware of the way that ice was slowly frosting over his body. Suddenly, a gasping band of humans emerged from the woods behind him, where the evening activities had taken place, all utterly unharmed. Among them was Mandalay and a few half-conscious members of Class 1-B, being carried by Kendo-san. Hitsugaya turned his icy gaze on them.

"The young boy that lives with you, Mandalay-san, is approximately half a kilometer away, in that direction," Izuku felt his heart stop as Hitsugaya pointed deep into the glacial blanket, "I have placed him in a protective capsule of my ice. There is enough air in this pocket to last him thirteen hours. Approximately five meters from his location there is an unknown hostile, also encased in an ice capsule. His accomodations include restraints due to his proximity to the child."

Mandalay's scratched face relaxed slightly and Hitsugaya's stance shifted, his gaze returning to the plain of ice. His glowing, icy-bluewhite glare hardened.

"Get inside the barrier. Now."

The command was icy calm, and the group hurried to do as they were told, much to the surprise of Class 1-B. Mandalay darted inside as well, breathing heavily, and promptly collapsed to the ground, shaking violently. She wasn't the only one to do so – Kendo and the others who had been standing under their own power also keeled over, trembling.

"…the gravity…it's like walking through syrup outside this barrier," Kendo gasped, and Izuku suddenly felt realization flood through him. He knew that feeling – Hitsugaya had done the same thing when he'd first arrived at U.A. He'd pressured the air, or increased the gravity somehow, so that it had been hard to get out of his chair or remain standing. And he was now doing it again.

The violet-eyed man reappeared with a scream of fury, ice encasing his left arm all the way to the shoulder, blood dripping from his teeth, and he lunged at Hitsugaya, slashing with his own blade.

"I'll kill you, you puny taicho-brat! Kubire _,_ Trepadora!"

His body vanished in a puff of white, sour-smelling smoke, and Hitsugaya flashed away with that super-fast movement of his. But something long and white shot out of the smoke after him and as Hitsugaya twisted away from that blur of bony white, he cried out in pain, then blurred out of sight again.

He reappeared at the other end of the clearing, gritting his teeth and scowling. Blood dripped down his right arm, and when he shifted a little bit, Izuku caught sight of the bloody furrow running from the back of Hitsugaya's shoulder, down his bicep, and curled across to end on the softer underside of his forearm. Then he smirked again, apparently not frightened by the eight long tentacles made of what looked like flexible bone swirling around the villain's fragile-looking body.

"I always forget that you fucking Arrancar actually get halfway decent when you release your Zanpakutou," he sneered. "Fine then, I'll waste my power on you. _Bankai. Daiguren Hyourinmaru._ "

All the color drained instantly from the villain's face as icy mist swirled faintly around the outline of Hitsugaya's body, thickening to impenetrable fog for just a moment. And then with a tinkling chime like delicate icicles, a pair of flexible wings roughly-sculpted entirely out of ice unfurled, a long, sinous tail also sculpted out of ice following it. And with a strong downbeat, Hitsugaya was aloft, bracers made of ice covering both of his hands and forearms, neck and shoulder armor protecting his throat and upper arms, and thigh-high armored boots made of ice and shaped to look like dragon's feet covered his legs. Three blossoms of ice hung in the air behind him. The villain fell back, trembling slightly.

"You…your reiatsu is…"

Hitsugaya let out a bone-chilling laugh and Izuku couldn't help but flinch, terrified by that sound coming out of his friend's frosted mouth. The white-haired teenager barely seemed human anymore, the frost and ice coating his skin in delicate filigree not melting as it should if there was a drop of warmth left in his body.

"You do realize that the only element-wielder stronger than me, as I am now, is the late Yamamoto-soutaicho, don't you, Antenor Luppi? The current Soutaicho is an even match for me." The question was soft but deadly, the pouring rain turning to snow and hail. The villain's teeth gritted together.

"What the hell happened to make you this fucking _powerful_ since last time?!" he screeched. Hitsugaya's smirk was nasty.

"I grew. My full power is too strong for this adolescent body of mine to handle – it always has been. Even now, this teenaged form can't contain my full strength. You had the misfortune to lose to me when I was around 130cm – probably about the physical equivalent of a ten-year-old. Now I'm almost 40cm taller. And as long as I'm still growing, so are my powers. By the time I'm fully grown, who knows? I might even surpass Yamamoto-soutaicho in strength."

Izuku could feel his heart dropping down into his stomach, his teeth now chattering together for a reason other than the cold. The power rippling off both Hitsugaya and his strange, bone-clad opponent was palpable, surging wildly, but the difference between them was staggering. The villain's power was dark and malicious, like poison to the very air, but it trembled unsteadily and while potent, it rippled flexibly. Hitsugaya on the other hand was cloaked in icy winter, the solid, glacial purity of that otherworldly frozen power flooding the air around him with inexorable strength.

And this wasn't even the full scope of his abilities.

The villain – Antenor? – charged, snarling, the eight cartilaginous tentacles suddenly spiking with protruding spines of bone on the ends. There was a blur of white, the flexible limbs a whirling disc of shredding death around the villain, and without missing a beat Hitsugaya's wings of ice surged powerfully, turning his hovering into an upward ascent. Blurs of icy white-blue and bone-cream struck across the storming sky, Antenor and Hitsugaya flashing into brief clarity for milleseconds at a time as they clashed at a speed far too fast for the human eye to follow. The storm howled overhead, the sky still rotating ominously. The pair appeared again and again, sometimes pausing for what seemed like minutes at a time as Antenor grew progressively bloodier.

And then a body hit the ground, earth shattering at the force of the blow, and Toushiro hovered in the air, the rough wings of ice on his back beating in time to the thunder overhead. He reached up with a single hand, his limbs glowing with that terrifying power, and suddenly the hail and sleet and shrieking wind stopped. The lightning calmed, thunder dying away into echoing silence.

Hitsugaya's luminous eyes closed, the fingers of his left hand reaching up, gleaming frosted white.

"I hear your voice, Hyourinmaru." His voice was soft, but it echoed in the valley, and achingly slowly Antenor staggered to his feet, coated in his own blood, his stitched face bruised beyond recognition. The villain looked calm though he was gasping for breath, almost accepting. Toushiro, however, had a face twisted by pained empathy.

"It's like thunder, falling into my palms. _Tensou Juurin._ "

The clouds began to swirl, funneling down, down, down, until the first wisp of the thunderheads touched Hitsugaya's outstretched palm. And then everything roared back to life, the hail, the wind, the rain and sleet – even the lightning. All funneling, swirling into Hitsugaya's fingertips until the sky was clear and the clouds were gone, like they had never existed.

Then Toushiro's icy eyes opened, lightning sparking in arcs of blue from his hand, which he very deliberately dropped down to place on his blade. A single tear finally dropped down his cheek, and a swirling ring of icy mist appeared with a bell-like tone, drifting up the length of the blade before disappearing.

"Nagai Ryuusenka."

He thrust down with his blade, aiming the stab at Antenor despite the massive distance between them, and without warning lightning and hail and the roaring of piercing wind screamed from the tip of his sword, knives of ice exploding through the sudden explosion of redirected storm clouds. Antenor disappeared without even so much as a whisper, dust and debris exploding from the earth surrounding him as the attack hit. He didn't even try to dodge. Izuku covered his ears against the cacophony of deafening thunder, screeching stone, and hissing ice and sleet, covering his face. And then it was over.

When the dust cleared, a thick layer of glittering ice dust covered the earth, ground scorched by lightning and cracked by intense, focused wind gleaming silver with rime. A massive blossom of ice protruded from the earth, a strange cloudy mass trapped within the bluing depths. Hitsugaya flew effortlessly down, the tear on his cheek crystalizing, slowly freezing on contact with his skin. Izuku blinked, staring, and realized absently that one of the ice-flowers floating above his friend's head had disappeared.

"I understand," he said, speaking to the glistening lump of ice. "Thank you for your help. Be at peace now."

The huge blossom of ice shattered suddenly, whipping up a cold gust of wind, and a strange, dark dust blew away on that arctic breeze, swirling once around Hitsugaya's body before drifting off into the cloudless sky. A few of particles began to glisten, gradually turning golden before fading into the atmosphere. Hitsugaya closed his eyes for a moment, then flitted over to the glacier encasing one half of the entire forest and placed his hand on the glistening ice. It shone a soft white, then began to melt, cool, sweet water swirling beautifully around Toushiro's golden skin before evaporating into the air. It had warmed up significantly, Izuku noticed absently. On the tide of water, two large bubbles of crystal-clear ice slowly appeared, floating towards Toushiro like obedient dogs. Hitsugaya placed his hand on the smaller of the two. There was a crack like a gunshot. And then the sphere's top half crumbled and caved in, turning to snow. Kouta's small body slumped over the edge of the icy sphere, obviously terrified, shivering violently as he lay limply on the ice. Hitsugaya bit his lip, then turned.

"Midoriya, could you come carry him to Mandalay-san? My body is too cold – I'll burn him."

Izuku stared for a minute. Then he got up, numbly passing through the barrier and stepping outside. Almost immediately the air felt soupy and thick, cloying like overly-sweet perfume but without the awful scent, and he staggered. Hitsugaya's eyebrows drew together in concern, and without saying anything his wings and tail and half-gone flowers glowed and exploded into powdered snow. He lifted his fingertips to his collarbone, a flash of white light striking the skin beneath his shirt there.

The pressure eased instantly. Toushiro watched Izuku's face carefully as the green-headed boy lifted Kouta out of the protective shell, cradling the trembling child carefully. Izuku tried to ignore the hesitant, somewhat concerned gaze.

"…Midoriya?"

The soft question broke him. He hugged Kouta to his chest tightly, protectively, and leveled a beseeching gaze at the boy he considered a friend.

"You controlled ice," he said quietly. "And made a barrier. And flew with weird ice wings. And sensed villains before they approached. And summoned a storm, then absorbed that storm and used it to attack the man who came after you. And your abilities, whatever they are, turn the air thick and soupy, like I'm walking through syrup."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, as if puzzled by this line of thought, but he inclined his head and carefully slid his unsheathed blade back over his shoulder, the sheath reforming as he did so. Izuku watched, feeling somewhat detached from reality, and Kouta stared, clinging tightly to his chest and whimper.

"…Did you kill him, Hitsugaya?"

Toushiro's entire demeanor changed. His eyes – once again jade, once again human – melted into grief. His shoulders, always lifted so proudly, slumped. He lowered his gaze, looking away from Izuku's wide, somewhat disbelieving stare. It was answer enough. Izuku felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly. Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't attached an honorific to Hitsugaya's name. He wasn't sure why he'd done that.

"…I did what he asked of me."

Hitsugaya's voice was unbearably quiet, pitched to carry but not to intimidate. For the first time since meeting him, Toushiro seemed genuinely regretful, not just upset. Izuku shook his head, unsure of what to feel besides sick, or what to think to break his thoughts out of the endless loop of confusion.

"How…how does that make it any better?"

Hitsugaya smiled wanly, placing a hand on the surface of the other sphere of ice. A squall of rage echoed from inside it – a captured villain, Izuku noted absently.

"He was already dead."

Izuku paused, then lifted his head, not expecting that answer in the slightest. Hitsugaya lips were curled in a sad, pale smile.

"He wasn't human," Toushiro said gently. "He was a Hollow. Essentially a corrupted version of…of me, of what I am. And…these corrupted Hollows they…eat humans. In an attempt to regain the humanity they lost. The only way to stop them is to kill them."

Izuku didn't remember to breathe until Kouta whimpered again, and then he had to blink the black spots from his eyes. Hitsugaya reached out like he wanted to help, then drew back before he could touch, flinching, mist rising from his pale fingers. He took a deep breath.

"But Antenor Luppi – he wasn't just a Hollow. I mean, he was. Before, when he fought me and lost the first time. But he was killed, by one of his allies. Back where I'm from, there's a mad scientist, Kurotsuchi Mayuri. Kurotsuchi found Antenor's corpse and reanimated him. Enslaved him…and experimented on him. So when he just asked me to free him from that…I felt honor-bound to do so."

Izuku felt the realization swell in his heart as Toushiro carefully, hesitantly touched the scar on his throat, the long white line across his carotid artery. The young man swallowed hard. Izuku let him have the moment he needed. His heart felt tight in his chest, taut and confused and numbed by what he'd just seen Toushiro do, and he was sure that once the shock wore off he'd be absolutely…something.

What emotion was there to describe this? Hitsugaya had killed someone, but that someone wasn't human. And neither, apparently, was Hitsugaya – at least, not fully. And on top of this, being non-human was the source of about a hundred different incredibly powerful abilities that made One-For-All look like a flimsy plastic spork in terms of usefulness.

"Kurotsuchi is the one who gave me this scar," Toushiro said finally, his voice choking up. "The only reason that I'm not in Antenor's position is because, ultimately, Kurotsuchi is my colleague and we were in the middle of a war. He couldn't afford to… to _play around_ with me for too long."

There was a short silence. Izuku tried to swallow the lump in his throat and failed.

"So that's why you killed him?"

Toushiro shrugged vacantly, the gash in his right arm slowly starting to drip with red again. Why had it stopped bleeding in the first place? Had his body temperature dropped that low?

"That's one. But he was also a Hollow," Hitsugaya sighed. "If I hadn't killed him, he would have eaten you."

He glanced at the boy in Izuku's arms, looking carefully at him, then at the barrier around the lodge. He started walking towards it, the ball of ice following him, and Izuku ran to catch up.

"I'm going to deactivate the barrier now. There aren't any more Hollows around."

Izuku stumbled when he said that.

"Wait- Hitsugaya-kun, what if you need to use that weird air-pressuring thing-"

"I can't," Hitsugaya held up a hand, his other palm flat against the translucent surface. He smiled wryly. "I can't use my powers to harm or kill humans unless under some exceedingly special circumstances, regardless if they're a villain or not."

Izuku froze. Suddenly all the swirling information in his head started to fall into place, lining up with startling clarity.

"You're…not human, are you?"

Toushiro stilled suddenly, and Izuku could feel his classmates' eyes boring into him in shock. Then Hitsugaya's fingers pulsed, and the barrier broke like shattering glass. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Not anymore."

Izuku could almost hear the pain in Toushiro's voice and he had to steel himself to keep going, to keep asking the questions that he already knew the answers to. He heard a soft gasp behind him, and Aizawa's gentle sigh. That didn't surprise him, that Aizawa had known.

"But your job, the reason why people have exploited your power since you were little – that's killing Hollows, because they eat humans?"

Toushiro turned entirely away, completely hiding his face from everyone, his shoulders tense, the long gash in his arm now bleeding steadily. He didn't look pale, but the blood loss had to be getting to him by this point. Right?

"Yes."

Izuku felt sick suddenly, the conclusion he was drawing to suddenly tasting like acid in his mouth. Did Hitsugaya really believe that he wasn't human? That his _opponent_ hadn't been human? Who had put this idea into his head – and _why_?

He couldn't really think that. Could he?

"You're a non-human being…forced to protect humans from beings that could easily kill us, and simply because you were powerful and people wanted to exploit that, you…were stuck with people like your colleague Kurotsuchi. And you can't harm humans," Izuku choked out, struggling to force the words out. "In that sort of situation…aren't…aren't you also every bit the slave that you said Antenor was?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Toushiro glanced over his shoulder at Izuku, his jade gaze gentle. There was a strange, yawning wisdom in those green depths.

"Perhaps," Toushiro acknowledged after a moment. "But I chose these chains for myself because I didn't want to see people die. I could have ignored my potential, and lived my life as someone in the shadows, being protected and causing deaths on accident. But instead I chose to learn to control my powers and use them to protect the people I would have otherwise killed. As I have said before, if you have power and choose not to use it, you are partially responsible for the deaths you might have prevented."

Izuku shook his head, setting Kouta down by Mandalay, who gave the little boy a warm hug and quickly kissed his forehead as he started sobbing, obviously terrified of his experience with the villain and the bubble of ice.

"That…that doesn't sound much like a choice."

Hitsugaya smiled faintly and turned away again.

"No. It was not. Now, you all should prepare yourselves to fight the nine humans I haven't captured and will be mostly unable to engage in combat beyond martial arts. Several seem to be clustered around the remaining students in the forest, and from what I can tell, everyone both friendly and hostile are within the circle created by the loop of the path."

The white-haired boy strode off to the other side of the lodge, placing about fifty feet of distance between himself and the rest of the people. Izuku watched him go and sit down, obviously trying not to move his arm too much. Aizawa, Mandalay, Tora and Kan all shot to their feet, and after some hurried discussion Aizawa stayed behind to protect the students. The members of classes 1-A and 1-B sat in silence, all stunned by Hitsugaya's power and Izuku's careful deductions.

It was almost too much to process all at once.

But finally, something inside Izuku warmed, like an electric blanket or a bundle of clothing fresh out of the dryer, and he jogged over to Toushiro without thinking twice, holding out a hand.

"Come on," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You should probably get first-aid for your injury."

The grass that Hitsugaya was sitting on crackled with a hint of frost. Hitsugaya's rich green eyes widened in shock and no little disbelief, staring at the hand in front of him like it was an alien thing. Izuku tried to smile as Hitsugaya turned that stunned gaze on him, though he knew it failed to hide the hurt at the deceptions and continuing lack of trust Hitsugaya was showing.

"…You're my friend, Hitsugaya-kun. Even if…you aren't human anymore."

Toushiro's mouth opened soundlessly. His eyebrows knitted together, incomprehension passing like a storm cloud across his face.

"…Do you even realize what you're saying?"

Izuku bit his tongue, but he wasn't able to help the way that his cheeks puffed out or the way that his eyebrows lowered on his face.

"I didn't grow up in the same dark place you did, remember?" He let his voice get hard, an undercurrent of the vein of hurt he was feeling dripping into his tone. "I don't have the same difficulty trusting others that you do."

Toushiro chuckled a little bit, half of a smile appearing on his face, one corner of his lips twitching up, and slowly he stood up, brushing dirt from the army-green of his shorts as he did so, ignoring Izuku's outstretched hand.

"…Maybe it is just paranoia." That lopsided half-smile was still directed rather pointedly at Izuku, who could feel his cheeks steadily warming. "God, I'm so sorry I ever compared you to my sister."

Izuku's interest was piqued in spite of everything, and he took a tentative step in Aizawa's direction, then sped up once he saw that Hitsugaya was following him.

"What? Why?"

Hitsugaya shook his head, lowering his gaze. His black boots grazed over the grass with a soft whisper.

"You're willing to give me a chance even after I…well, I obviously kept a lot of stuff from you, and did something you obviously don't agree with. She wasn't strong enough to handle that kind of betrayal."

Izuku stopped and turned around, biting his lower lip.

"It's not that it didn't hurt that you'd keep something so huge a secret, Hitsugaya-kun. It's that I'm seeing shades of grey where there was once only black and white. And I'm realizing you're probably so lost in that grey haze of shaded morality that you can't even comprehend how black and white must look anymore."

Toushiro stopped as well, his golden skin a shade paler than usual. Melancholia stole over his sculpted face.

"…If it's easier to think of me as a villain, you shouldn't try to see my point of view. Not for my sake."

Izuku's cheeks puffed up in irritation again, lower lip still stuck under his teeth. Who did Hitsugaya think he was?

"It's not because I'm trying to justify what you're doing to myself, it's because I can see where you're coming from. But I can also see my own point of view, and they're colliding," he scolded, upset. "And it's probably a good thing, because the world isn't black and white when it comes to good and evil, and I – we – need to learn how to navigate that gradient to become good heroes."

Izuku seized Toushiro by the wrist and dragged him the last few meters over to the rest of the class, still slightly put-out. Hitsugaya's skin felt like ice to the touch, so cold that it nearly hurt Izuku's fingers even in the muggy summer heat.

"Now, _please_ , stay still and just let us help you."

Hitsugaya ducked his head, a pink flush on his cheeks, and Izuku instantly felt the stirrings of panic in his chest.

"I-I, Hitsugaya-kun, I didn't mean to cut you off like that, I just-"

"Midoriya, you're about to start babble-apologizing for the millionth time. Find your backbone and use it."

Hitsugaya's lips were half-curled again, and though his tone had been harsh Izuku knew that somewhat-smile meant more than any amount of ice the white-haired teenager could inject into his voice. He smiled back, relieved.

"…Okay, fine."

* * *

 **Luppi! Who woulda guessed? And there's an answer to a question that some of you have probably been wondering in the next chapter, so yay!**

 **Remember, my favorite review gets the option of receiving a spoiler! (The last person I picked told me they didn't want it, lol)**


	21. Even the Best Plans

**A/N: And here we have Hitsugaya's POV again! Hopefully this makes it clear how Hollows can get to the BnHA-verse (since the Senkaimon is frozen, Hitsugaya is stuck)**

 **And the stakes are raised! Oh no! (Told you I was going to screw with canon a little bit XD)**

 **Also, I have decided. I am going to be doing an omake series of Hitsugaya x Random BnHA characters at the end of these chapters. Leave the name of the person you want to see going on a date with Hitsugaya in your review~ XD**

* * *

Yaoyorozu was subdued, as were most of his classmates, but they'd seemed to fall in line with Izuku's tentative olive branch, and honestly, Hitsugaya was surprised by their openness. He'd basically hinted at the "fact" that he was a being created to defend humanity against evil Hollows, and yet nobody seemed to mind that he wasn't human. Or, perhaps it was better to say that nobody was openly avoiding him. Either they didn't believe a word he was saying and were just humoring him, or they were trying their hardest not to see him any differently.

Either way, it was loads better than anything that would happen in a situation like this in Seireitei.

He just wished he hadn't been forced to divulge that much. Luppi's appearance and apparent alliance with the human villains was worrying, but after a little conversation with the reanimated Arrancar, Hitsugaya had learned that Kurotsuchi had actually sent Antenor to this dimension for the purpose of exploration – and then had immediately lost contact. Luppi had been running around for two weeks completely unsupervised, able to return to his universe through the Garganta by traveling to the inside of the unstable wormhole, then opening another Garganta from inside the one-way flow and leapfrogging back to the Seireitei. But he hadn't – understandably so.

From what Antenor had said during their fight, the Einstein-Rosen bridge Hitsugaya had been pulled through had been kept open by his presence in the wrong universe. Visibly so, as a swirling funnel of darkness and streaking light ringed by the frozen-open gates of the Senkaimon. Luckily, humans could neither see it nor interact with it, as it appeared to be floating fifteen feet off the ground. But the Hollows, apparently, had learned of its existence, and the bravest would open Garganta directly into that wall of manipulated spacetime.

Which was why Hollows were appearing in this universe.

And to think that Luppi was the only Arrancar to have appeared here? That would be a rookie mistake; one that could cost lives. Dozens of lives. Most Arrancar didn't need to eat quite as often as the average Menos, but it didn't mean that they wouldn't eat, especially to sow fear and confusion. And if the Arrancar were allying with the human villains, then he had an even bigger problem to worry about.

"Hitsugaya-kun, stay still, _please_."

He bit his lip, hissing as Yaoyorozu dabbed at the skin around the long slash in his arm with rubbing alcohol or some other burning sanitization substance, and tried not to flinch away. It didn't work very well – he'd never been very good at getting his wounds treated. Yaoyorozu huffed irritably, gripping his wrist a little bit tighter despite that her fingers were turning white with cold. Then she pulled her shirt up, exposing her stomach, which began to glitter as she activated her Quirk.

"Ojiro-kun, Mineta-kun, could the two of you help me keep Hitsugaya-kun still?" she asked, a small metal table suddenly popping out of her stomach in a puff of opalescent sparkles. Toushiro yelped as she stretched his injured arm out on top of the table, flinching away, but then Ojiro knelt down next to him, his tail wrapping tightly around Hitsugaya's waist. Then the blonde boy took careful hold of Toushiro's arms and shoulders while Mineta, at Yaoyorozu's direction, stuck one of his sticky hair-spheres to Hitsugaya's wrist and attached it to the metal table.

"Hey! Let me go!" he protested, struggling against Ojiro's grip, but the taller boy was remarkably strong for a human – probably due to his martial arts training – and Hitsugaya's writhing didn't avail to much with Mineta's incredibly adhesive sphere gluing his wrist to the tabletop anyway. Yaoyorozu once again went to work disinfecting his wound. He gritted his teeth against the irritating, painful burn, lips peeling back in feral distaste, and tried to distract himself.

He watched as Aizawa easily smacked down the strange villain that used blue fire, his Erasure Quirk easily preventing any sort of meaningful resistance, hissing as Yaoyorozu forced him to lean forward slightly. He could sense Tora, Pixiebob, and Mandalay rounding up the other students in the forest, escorting them quickly back to the lodge deeper in the forest while the villains were still disoriented by the pressure of his massive reiatsu. Then he yelped in pain and discomfort as Yaoyorozu pressed gently on the gash, breaking concentration just as he sensed Tora picking up Todoroki, who seemed to be unconscious near the point where he also felt Ragdoll's reiatsu.

"This is deeper than I thought," Yaoyorozu mumbled, frowning. "I'm going to start putting pressure on it. Hitsugaya-kun, are you feeling lightheaded? Your skin is really cold."

He glanced back over his shoulder at her, her pretty eyes blinking once or twice, and after a moment of consistent eye contact he let his lips curl wryly, and shook his head.

"I can survive losing over 90 percent of my blood volume, and I won't start displaying symptoms of blood loss until my blood volume drops below 65 percent of my total capacity. So, no. And, yes, my skin is cold; I'm still thawing out from using my ice-abilities." Yaoyorozu's dark stare widened in shock, her mouth falling open in surprise so startlingly comical that he couldn't help chuckling a bit, raising an eyebrow at her. She went a bit pink in the face.

"A…a normal person would require blood transfusions to survive at that point, Hitsugaya-kun, and I'm almost certain would be suffering from hypothermia." she mumbled, producing a large roll of gauze and several cloth pads with her Creation Quirk. He remained grudgingly still as she folded the cloth pads over the injury and started to press down. Ojiro refused to let him go anyway, kind but firm. He tried to relax his jaw, fingers on his other hand flexing repeatedly as Yaoyorozu tried to stop the bleeding. It took her another cloth pad, spread over the first two, to stop him from bleeding through the padding, and after that she wrapped his whole arm up tightly in several layers of gauze.

"I know. You humans are fragile creatures," he said, a slight note of teasing in his voice. Yaoyorozu scoffed shakily, trying not to smile, then glanced at Mineta and Ojiro with a warm smile, her fluffy ponytail bouncing.

"Thank you for your help, Ojiro-kun, Mineta-kun," she said, her voice bubbly. "You can let him go now."

The purple sphere released his wrist with a sucking sound, and Ojiro grinned sheepishly as he let Hitsugaya go, uncurling his tail from around the the white-haired teenager's waist. Toushiro carefully tested his bandaged arm, rotating his shoulder a few times before Yaoyorozu took hold of his shoulders and pulled him onto his back, his head landing neatly in her lap. Almost instantly, he went rosy with surprise and embarrassment, the slight flush on Yaoyorozu's cheeks only making the situation worse. But then a small pillow dropped out of her arm, and she slipped that under his head, placing her fingertips under his jaw. He relaxed instantly, his Unohana-survival reflexes kicking in, and resigned himself to the coddling with a roll of his eyes.

"Yaoyorozu-san, I'm fine, I promise," he protested, looking up at her with an exasperated scowl. She shushed him with a slightly flustered look, obviously still hyperaware of the fact that she'd basically pulled him into her lap, pillow or no pillow. Toushiro wanted to protest again, but the expression of concentration on her face made her button-like nose wrinkle up cutely, and he knew she was counting. So he lay still, waiting, very aware of her warm fingertips pressing gently into the side of his neck, the rhythm of his heartbeat drumming on her hands.

Once a minute had passed, she drew her hand away, chewing on the inside of her cheek with worry.

"…Your pulse…it's way too slow to be healthy."

He nodded patiently, raising an eyebrow again. Her face was very round, and a little bit of baby fat clung to her cheeks, which was slightly adorable. He'd overheard her explanation for the bit of extra chub that clung to her at all times – the explanation of her Quirk – and the roundness that thin layer of baby fat provided suited her bubbly nature well. He paused, trying to imagine her without the round cheeks or soft curves. Then he frowned. It didn't fit at all, the idea of her with sculpted cheekbones like his own and visible wiry muscles. She was much cuter with the extra curve.

Those round cheeks turned the color of pink apples at his raised eyebrow, a mix of concern and confusion in her eyes. A faint huff of nervous annoyance escaped her, and he had to bite his tongue on a strange little laugh that wanted to crawl up his throat at the sight of her irritation. Then he consented to answer the question he knew she hadn't asked, still trying not to laugh.

"My powers lower my body temperature to a range that wouldn't be survivable for a human. That allows me to directly produce ice using the moisture in my body in case I need a quick defense. But to cope with that lowered body temperature, my heart rate drops as if I'm temporarily cold-blooded, and I can consciously control how slow my heart beats – I should have a heart rate of around 15 bpm right now. It's an effective technique for helping to control bleeding. Once I go past a certain point, however, my resistance to low temperatures evaporates and I can go into shock just like a normal human, though the onset of shock is usually much quicker because I'm already near-frozen."

Yaoyorozu's gaze suddenly grew glassy and starry, pulling her fists up to cover her mouth as her scientific excitement shot through the roof, obviously wrapped up in thoughts of the possible uses of such an adaptation. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, amused in spite of himself, and tried to sit up. Then, much to his surprise, a rather subdued Midoriya appeared and put a hand on his chest, pinning him down. Yaoyorozu quickly joined in, gripping his shoulders firmly and blushing again as he frowned up at them, slightly huffy. Izuku sighed.

"Hitsugaya-kun, stay down for now," he said quietly. "You might feel fine, but you've still lost what looks to us like a lot of blood, and if you move around too much and loosen your bandages, you'll start bleeding again. And something is interfering with the cellphone signal right now, because I can't get any service and the radios aren't working either, so if you lose too much blood before we can call an ambulance…"

Toushiro blinked up at Izuku, the rich jade of his eyes narrowing to thin slits, but when Midoriya didn't waver he relaxed and lay still, behaving himself for once in his life. He felt a little bit guilty – it was his lingering reiatsu that was most likely interfering with the cell-phone signal. Midoriya sat down at his side, pressing his head into his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose. Class 1-A and the scattered group from Class 1-B clustered around them. And they waited.

Slowly, the sounds of battle grew louder. The man who used blue fire continually lost to Aizawa's expertise, and bands of Class 1-B drifted back in small groups, escorted by golems of earth or the battle-weary pros themselves. Todoroki was carried back by Tora, still out cold, and Yaoyorozu made a pillow for him too, as well as the several other students in various states of unconsciousness or semiconsciousness that the pros kept bringing back.

It took only a little while longer for Kendo to finally turn to glance at Hitsugaya and Iida, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Everyone from Class 1-B is here!" she called. "Who are you missing?"

Iida frowned.

"We're missing Tokoyami-kun, Shouji-kun, and Bakugo-kun," the class president replied anxiously, finally pulling his gaze away from the slowly-waking Todoroki. "Those are the only three, but it's worrying because Bakugo-kun was with Todoroki-kun, who was attacked."

Hitsugaya felt his chest tighten at the news, bile clawing unpleasantly at the back of his throat. His intestines tying themselves into bows didn't help his sudden pangs of anxiety either. Bakugo had just the kind of personality that the villians would think of as malleable, as volatile enough to be swayed by promises of a no-rules-no-morals life. That Todoroki hadn't been found with Bakugou was therefore extremely worrying, and more than a little bit upsetting.

It genuinely surprised him, that he was upset over Bakugo's disappearance, worried over a human. But, then again, Bakugo did remind him of Kurosaki quite a bit, right down to the blunt insults and take-no-bullshit attitude. The arrogance wasn't justified from Bakugo the way that it was from Kurosaki, though. But now Bakugo was MIA, and the only other person who could sense humans, Ragdoll, was also out-of-commission, an apparent villain sitting with her.

…this had been a highly coordinated attack, Hitsugaya realized after a moment, eyes widening fractionally. He'd felt the unfamiliar villains approaching the looped path, distinctly covering all the angles for possible escape, and with the sole exception of Luppi and the crazy guy trapped inside the ice sphere, very of few of them were trying to break position. In fact, only a few were moving. And with them…

It was faint. Much fainter than it should be, as if Bakugo were unconscious, but the tiniest pinprick of the blonde's reiatsu was attached to one of the villains, moving along with the small group. As Hitsugaya monitored them, they met up with another presumable villain, paused for a moment, and set off again. The new person followed them, away from the dying reiatsu of single villain, Tokoyami, and Shouji. Hitsugaya bit his lip.

"Exfiltration."

There was a brief silence, and with a careful glare at the two mother-hens clucking over him, he sat up. Surprisingly, a slight wave of dizziness hit him, and with a groan, he realized that the gash on his arm must have severed a vein. Midoriya cocked his head to the side, but he wasn't the first to say something – it was Monoma.

"…what are you talking about?" he sneered. Toushiro ignored the upset in his voice, staring off in the Pussycats' direction.

"The villians – they're exfiltrating or kidnapping Bakugo. Notice how they took out Ragdoll, the group sensor, first, then waited until everyone was split up before all attacking simultaneously to keep you apart. Then they went for Todoroki and Bakugo, presumably knocking them both out in the process, and one of them is now carrying Bakugo. They're keeping everyone busy and distracted while they get what they came for."

There was a spilt second of silence, and then Midoriya shot up, lips already parting in abject panic. Hitsugaya seized his wrist with a fierce glare and pulled. Izuku landed hard on his butt with a yelp of protest.

"Sit down. They'll come to us, if I'm not mistaken."

That caught everyone's attention, and Midoriya eyed Toushiro charily.

"…how on earth do you know that?"

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed, his concentration following the group of villains and their captive.

"They were originally moving in pairs or alone, but now they're grouping up, searching out their allies – I think it's safe to assume that their methods of communication aren't working either, if ours aren't. They'll probably move here to find Antenor and the man I've captured, to warn them of their plans to leave." Hitsugaya's voice was level, his words sure and calm. It appeared to help relax his tense classmates somewhat, so he continued in that vein. "If they progress in the fashion I believe to be most likely, this will be their final stop, but they'll observe from a distance in favor of entering the clearing. If they see that their ally has been captured, the chance of a rescue attempt would be small given the power of thirty-seven Quirks working together, especially if they have any tactically-minded indivivuals among their number."

Midoriya's eyes widened to huge saucers of evergreen and white, and he grabbed Hitsugaya's shoulders so quickly his fingertips blurred.

"What if your captured villain broke the ice while they were watching?" he asked hurriedly. "What if he appeared to attack us by surprise? Could we use that to lure them in and get Kacchan back?"

Hitsugaya stared at Izuku for a long moment. He'd already considered the tactical necessity of that option, and while it was a good plan, there was one fundamental flaw. Or rather, two fundamental flaws with the strategy, and though Hitsugaya truly didn't care about others' opinions he wouldn't needlessly place his classmates' lives at risk with the consent of a single person.

"…I will not be able to recapture him with my ice, and this cannot be a plan you alone agree to."

There was a silence, and then Yaoyorozu swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly.

"…at the very least, I may be able to get a tracker onto Bakugo-kun in the confusion," she offered, the silence swallowing her words whole. "Even if we can't rescue him. But it would be dangerous, even with all of us, to distract this villain. It is also illegal for us to engage in any capacity beyond escaping."

Hitsugaya waited, cocking his head to the side and watching silently as the group of kids muttered among themselves, discussing the idea worriedly. Most seemed very torn about the plan, even Midoriya. Toushiro observed the green-haired boy carefully, wondering what would lead to the grimace on appearing on his friend's face. He spoke up when the grimace turned into a broken wince.

"Midoriya, what's on your mind?"

The freckled teenager looked up, biting his lip. There was pain on his face, but he managed a weak smile.

"Oh, it's nothing."

Toushiro's lips peeled back in a snarl, annoyed. It was obvious that the analytical boy had managed to come up with something, but had found it distasteful and was therefore trying to hide it.

"Don't lie. What are you thinking?"

Izuku squeaked at the sight of his glare, then gritted his teeth and pressed his hands to his forehead.

"…You can't attack…attack humans with your powers, right, Hitsugaya-kun?"

Toushiro stared, then nodded in confusion, unsure of why Midoriya would start off his plan with a silly comment like that. Izuku didn't appear to notice his curiosity, his brows still wrinkling together.

"But you can dodge with them?"

And it clicked. Hitsugaya's jade stare glassed, stricken. How had he never thought of it? As a shinigami, he was forbidden from interacting with humans, and usually that amounted to fading into the background, watching them passively. But in this world where humans could see and touch him with ease, as long as he didn't attack, he wouldn't be doing anything that he hadn't sworn oaths not to do. Izuku hadn't wanted to say anything because he hadn't wanted to use Hitsugaya's powers like a tool, but the idea was brilliant in its simplicity. If Izuku had been a shinigami in the Tenth, Hitsugaya knew that in that moment his pride in his Division would have reached a critical capacity.

Toushiro smirked, then cracked his knuckles.

"I suppose I am the best suited to be a distraction – I'll call out the one who has Bakugo when they show themselves. And given my record, well. Adding more criminal charges shouldn't be too much of a problem," he said lightly. "Good call, Midoriya. Nobody has qualms with that?"

There was a collective, nervous agreement with those terms, and the plan was set. Aizawa glanced back at them from the corner of the clearing where he was fighting, obviously sensing that something was amiss but unsure of what the issue was. Hitsugaya bit his lip, eyebrows drawing together and sinking low on his forehead. He spared the dazed Todoroki a glance. The heterochromatic teenager would be fine. Even from here, Hitsugaya could tell that the maximum damage that the boy had suffered was a minor concussion. He'd probably gotten off so easily because Tora had approached so soon after he'd been knocked out, otherwise it would have been likely that he would have been killed.

The thought left a sour taste in Hitsugaya's mouth. He'd never truly understood what would persuade any person to kill a child, and it had been something he'd struggled with for all two-hundred-plus years of his afterlife. But Todoroki was alive. Everyone was alive, even the defeated Ragdoll.

The pair fighting Aizawa through the cowardly shadow-humans tensed up as the group of their villainous allies approached from behind. Hitsugaya shot Midoriya a tense look in warning, gritting his teeth as those constellation freckles paled to light flecks of dirt.

And then he let the ice start to break.

He whirled around, affecting terror and surprise, well aware of the youth in his eyes that would make his fear so believable. It was something Kyoraku had always complained about, and something Soifon had liked about him – his ability to project innocence supreme even if his hands were black with guilt. And he used it to his advantage whenever he could. Like now.

The sphere shattered into gleaming shards of melting wintry slush, and the villain inside emerged with a mad cackle. One of his eyes gleamed with mechanical red, the side of his face stripped away. His gaze locked onto Hitsugaya, who had placed himself nearest to the sphere. Muscle fibers wove up and over his biceps, a brutish grin on the villain's mutilated face, and he raised a fist. And then, very predictably, he attacked.

Toushiro dodged, twisting sinuously away from the attack, already taking his low-slung hakuda stance. But then he yelped as the earth split beneath his feet, launching him slightly off balance and causing him to stumble. The muscle-bound villain cackled wildly, seemingly unhurt despite the strength of his punch. It was far beyond anything which Hitsugaya had seen a mere human possess up until this point, with the sole exception of All Might. Then a muscle-laced hand shot out and he ducked away, easily regaining his footing on the cracked ground.

"Fast little brat, aren't you?!" the man guffawed, snarling with enough bloodthirst that Zaraki Kenpachi might even be momentarily interested. "Keep running, little boy! I don't know who captured me like that, but I'm angry, and splitting your pretty little head open is only going to make me feel so much better!"

Hitsugaya leapt over top of another bulging punch, foot tapping lightly onto the back of the man's fist, and took a few ghostly steps up the man's arm before somersaulting to the ground. The muscular man whirled around, his back now facing the students of Class 1-A, and growled, lunging for the slippery shinigami again. Toushiro swirled away in a blur of lithe color, dancing effortlessly away from the haphazard punches and kicks.

It only infuriated the man all the more, the nonchalant ease with which Hitsugaya could evade every strike. He barely noticed as he kept advancing, following the flickering body of the white-haired boy further and further from the group of tense students. Only once there was a decent distance between the muscular man and the remainder of his classmates did Toushiro finally allow a punch to connect.

He heard Izuku cry out, heard Yaoyorozu's scream break through his concentration as the fist covered with bulging muscle fibers struck him in the stomach. He choked, the breath driven from his lungs in a sharp gust, but even as he was thrown into the ground, skidding painfully on the dirt, he was mostly unharmed. Winded, but fine. It would take a significant amount of physical trauma to injure him without the use of reiatsu, and while this man was nothing to sneeze at, his punches didn't pack enough power to do anything lasting.

He lay still, feigning semiconsciousness as the man approached, and tried not to smirk when the group he'd sensed waiting in the wings emerged from the forest. There were five in total, not including the two keeping Aizawa at bay, the one with the tortured soul sitting by Ragdoll off in the distance, the one that Tokoyami had seemed to have killed, or the one looming over him. A lizard-like man stepped forward, holding a massive blade created of many ramshackle swords.

"Oi, Muscular! We got what we came for – let's get the fuck outta here!"

"Not so fast, villains!"

Tora emerged from the trees, panting, Mandalay and Pixiebob not far behind him. The tall man – actually a woman, if the scent traces meant anything, despite the beard and baggy clothing – whirled around, as did the short kid wearing the gas mask, and the pair easily engaged the exhausted heroes. The other three watched disinterestedly before turning back to the bulging-muscle man. The man ground his teeth together, obviously very put out by the announcement.

"You tellin' me I sat my ass in some stupid ass ice ball and didn't even get to kill anyone on the priority list? Fuck you! Fuck this!"

The scaled lizard snarled, brandishing his rickety multi-blade in anger. Hitsugaya let his senses drift across the five that had come out of the trees, searching for Bakugo's flick of human reiatsu. It only took a moment for him to locate the tiny pinprick of a human soul, tucked close to the villain wearing a black-and-white mask and a feathered top hat. And then he sat upright, ignoring the villain standing over him, and locked eyes with Izuku.

"The one in the top-hat!"

The reaction from Class 1-A was instant. Without even missing a beat, everyone suddenly jumped to battle-readiness, and it was clear that the villains were startled by the abrupt switch. The heroes were startled too, and Aizawa stiffened, distracted for just long enough for the fire-wielding shadow-human to land a glancing blow. The muscular villain glared down at Hitsugaya, his mechanical eye glowing with electric red light, then raised a fist.

Toushiro caught the punch before it landed, the earth cracking behind and beneath him. The villains all stopped to stare, taken aback by the nonchalant show of strength. The pros stopped too, save for Aizawa who had already seen Hitsugaya's inhuman abilities. A savage grin split Hitsugaya's face, the emerald of his eyes flashing with cruel promise. He didn't bother to look as he felt Yaoyorozu moving, Class 1-A moving about as quickly as they could without drawing attention away from him. He didn't have long to stall them – they already could tell he was planning something. His classmates better hurry.

"You think a mere punch can hurt me?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "I thought villains weren't supposed to be this naïve."

As veins bulged in the muscular man's forehead, fury eating away at the lingering sanity in his human eye, Toushiro shifted his grip on the man's straining fist with some difficulty. He was no Zaraki-style powerhouse by any means – matching this human's physical strength took considerable effort from him.

His feet shifted, and then he stepped aside and let go. The muscle-man lunged out of control into the empty space where he'd been, roaring in shock at the sly slip, and Hitsugaya took the opportunity to snap out, the heel of his boot striking the huge man in the side with textbook accuracy. There was a choked noise, and Hitsugaya smelled rather than saw the blood that the man coughed on the impact before being thrown several yards away. A sly smirk lit his face as he glanced at the remaining villains.

"…If you're wondering, Antenor Luppi wasn't much of a challenge for me," he said pleasantly, letting his eyes glow slightly with Hyourinmaru's cold power. He knew that the distraction was proving effective – Yaoyorozu and Hagakure were now backing away, a remote stowed away in a pocket, and the pros had shifted their attention onto the top-hat villain at Midoriya's gesturing. He just had to keep them looking at him. Had to keep their attention. So when the muscle-man climbed back to his feet, he pretended he didn't notice. And the villains did, suddenly refocusing on him, as if they were also trying to distract him from the attack approaching from his blind spot.

Honestly, none of these humans had any sort of battle sense. It was all so obvious, what they were doing. Ah well. It was easy to predict – easy to manipulate to his liking. The blonde girl with the pointy teeth and crazy buns blinked at him, then clasped her hands together and stuck out her bottom lip in a trembling pout.

"Ne, did you hurt Luppi-chan like that too?" she whimpered. Toushiro gazed levelly at her, then reached back over his shoulder. His fingers brushed over Hyourinmaru's hilt, caressing the blade gently for a long moment before he drew the long sword a few inches out of the sheath. A dark shadow fell across his face.

"…I can send you to join him, if you'd like." The offer wasn't genuine, but it was clear that the villains had taken his words at face value. The lizard man's jaw fell open.

"You killed Antenor? How? That guy isn't even human!"

Hitsugaya let his lips curl up and back in a vicious grin, drawing on memories of Kurotsuchi and Zaraki to create a slightly deranged smile. Hyourinmaru slid a few more inches out of the sheath of ice. The lizard man flinched away at the sight of that smile.

"Oh, I'm aware that he, er… _wasn't_ human. But we had unfinished business. I settled it."

That was answer enough, and the lizard's teeth bared in a snarl.

"And you people call yourselves heroes," he spat, obviously disgusted. The conviction with which he said that – did he truly believe something so ridiculous? – drew a startled, genuine laugh out of Toushiro.

"If you think I could ever be a hero, you're a fool," he hissed, angered by the comment. Just a little more, and then Midoriya would be in place. The lizard cocked his head to the side. He wasn't the only one to stop, pausing briefly. Hitsugaya tried not to wonder why Aizawa had also turned partially towards him.

"I don't want to be a hero, not the way you all seem to define heroes. The world isn't black and white, good and evil. It's all greyscale." He couldn't help the mocking hint that slipped into his words, the steel that broke through the false madness in his glare. "And the only thing you pathetic creatures seem to do is categorize actions and people as good or evil. Forgive me for being more complex than that."

Then he felt the muscle-man's hand grip his right wrist, the injured arm he was using to draw his blade, and he knew he was out of time. He twisted, bringing one leg up in a snapback kick as he pulled his injured arm forward, dragging the muscle-bound idiot's jaw straight into his foot. He could feel the bone shatter like glass, and as the man reeled back, howling in pain, the black-and-white masked man raised a hand and lunged, brushing his hand over Toushiro's shoulder. Something tingled painfully.

Then the world distorted, vertigo pounding through Toushiro's head like water through a fire hose, and everything began to grow with alarming speed, glass curving around him until he could feel his body stiffen and grow rigid, limbs locking in place. The vast sky shrank incredibly far away, and as he watched through unblinking glass eyes everything went dark.

* * *

 **And whoops. It was going so well too - nobody is even hurt beside Shiro!**

 **Leave your reviews in the box below! And remember, the best one will be granted the option of a next-chapter spoiler! (People keep saying no - is this a trend now?)**

 **Also, I am now doing headcanons for some fandoms on tumblr. Feel free to drop me an ask if you want to see a headcanon (NSFW is available on request)**


	22. A Problem I Must Address (Not Ch22)

To all my lovely reviewers:

Alright, I know many of you were expecting another chapter. I apologize for disappointing you this time, but don't worry - the next chapter will be released shortly, I promise. This is not a notice of me abandoning this story.

Instead, there is an issue that I need to address with some of you. This mostly applies to my anonymous reviewers, and I have addressed it in part before. I will now do so again - and here is the message, as succinctly as I can put it.

 _ **IF YOU CANNOT CRITICIZE THIS WORK POLITELY, WITHOUT BEING PATRONIZING, DO NOT REVIEW MY STORY.**_

I really do appreciate people pointing out plot holes in my 'canon'. I appreciate polite reviews that point out where I have stated two different facts that disagree. I appreciate dialogue over characterization differences, word choice, stylistic inaccuracies, anything! But you MUST be polite. I have now had several reviews from anonymous reviewers, who - if not blatantly rude - have been patronizing. I have had one guest reviewer tell me a bunch of things she/he/they found 'Okay' about my story, like her/his/their opinion was the only 'correct' opinion to have, and then told me to do a rewrite. Buster, I was at least 70,000 words in by chapter sixteen. AND I have already told all of you that I have the entire story planned out already. (By the way - that bullet-point outline? It's up to around 150 bullet points now. AND I'M JUST NOW WRITING ABOUT THE 30th BULLET POINT.)

I have had another guest reviewer, the anonymous 'star', leave what I like to call mixed reviews. Some have been polite, and I very much appreciate those reviews - but those usually came on the heels of my rebuttal to their reviews, which rather harshly criticize my characterization of PTSD!Hitsugaya, and basically imply that Hitsugaya shouldn't have PTSD because...he's 200 years old and a battle veteran? So he ages slowly, so what? Why does that mean he can't have PTSD? And if battle veterans can't have PTSD, then who the heck DOES have PTSD? I can understand that his/her/their views of Hitsugaya are different, and that he/she/they do not view Hitsugaya's character this way, but that isn't a criticism. It's a difference of opinion, and telling me (in Italics for clarity):

" _Pansy...I mean toshiro is becoming too fragile for my tastes._

 _This type of demeanor is neither wanted nor deserved_ " (star's review, ch2)

or

" _when you are a 200 old death god and you see someone using fire as a power, what will you remember?_

 _The 200 years of experience serving under a 'Firelord' of a boss?_

 _or some guy who fought u once or twice and gave you some burns? o_O_ " (a portion of star's review, ch12)

Well, that isn't polite criticism. This is patronization, plain and simple, especially given that I had already replied to this individual's reviews explaining myself in addition to replying to another individual's flame on my story. I have had several other reviewers very politely communicate to me that the PTSD seemed to be a bit too much - there is no reason for the patronizing tone to be necessary or present. In addition, this anonymous reviewer's most recent review, on Ch 20, was also blatantly patronizing. You can see the review - which I have deleted, as is now my privilege whenever someone posts an anonymous review - below, in italics.

" _Not much going on here other than Izuku being forcefully empathetic cuz plot._

 _Also is this going to be a trend?_

 _Some side character from bleach popping up and attacking only to be put down by hitsugaya? The so called genius not even trying to capture them to figure out how to travel back to soul society... __

 _All the while conveniently fighting In plane sight and using OP moves against puny opponents? talk about overkill_ " (star's review, ch 20)

In response to this continued patronization, I will no longer be replying to patronizing reviews and flames with the same politeness I previously used. I will also be deleting any and all anonymous reviews which cannot politely and respectfully convey their criticisms. You get what you pay for.

And the bottom line?

 ** _I AM WRITING A STORY THAT I WOULD LIKE TO READ, AND I AM CHOOSING TO SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL. I AM NOT WRITING THIS FOR YOU. THEREFORE, IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT, THERE IS A SMALL, SOMETIMES RED 'X' BUTTON IN THE TOP RIGHT-HAND CORNER OF YOUR SCREEN. THIS BUTTON WILL SAVE YOU FROM READING ANYTHING YOU DO NOT LIKE. YOU'RE WELCOME._**

And to those readers who have always been politely critical, politely enthusiastic, or politely neutral, thank you all very much. I love all of you, and appreciate every moment of time you have given to this story. Again, I apologize for giving you all false hope that this may have been a chapter. The next one should come out early next week. :)

AND NOW...

To the anon 'star':

1) Forcefully empathetic because _**plot**_? Are you reading the same story I am? Because let's face it - yeah, Izuku might not voluntarily choose to hang around a non-human murderer. But this is the boy who - while still Quirkless, mind you - ran forward to save his _bully_ from a villain while all the pro-heroes and adults with Quirks were just standing there watching. This is the boy who broke pretty much all of his fingers and an arm to impress upon Todoroki Shouto that using his Quirk had NOTHING to do with Endeavor and everything to do with his own wish to be a hero. This is the teenager who broke BOTH of his arms to save a rude little snot that had punched him in the groin and then ran off with his arms STILL broken to save a boy that had bullied, belittled, and hurt him for years on end (even if their relationship _had_ improved). This is the boy that, **manga spoiler** , _LIED TO THE PRO-HEROES_ out of sympathy for a _villain_. And...Izuku is 'forcefully empathetic because _plot_ '? What? And, I'm sorry, have you seen my story outline? Do you know my plot in full? Do you even know how long this story is probably going to be? Here's a hint, buddy; there's still about 300,000-400,000 words of _plot_ to go. Also, as I keep reminding you, I use a technique called the 'unreliable narrator'. I'm NOT GOING TO show you all of Izuku's thoughts from Hitsugaya's POV - that's not how the unreliable narrator works. I'm also not going to show you all of Izuku's thoughts from IZUKU's POV, because he, as an unreliable narrator, may not even be aware of them. Finally, if you really think empathy is OOC for Izuku, I have nothing more to say to you. At this point, this is a difference of opinion.

2) A trend? You mean the fact that Arrancars and not just normal Hollows can use Garganta? And that Hitsugaya can defeat weaker Arrancar? Uh, yeah, isn't that expected? And well, maybe if you read Ch 21, you'd know the answer to the second part of this question means that Luppi's defeat DID actually have significance, believe it or not. And yeah, Hitsugaya is fighting in 'plane' (I think you mean 'plain') sight - Hollows eat humans. Luppi is going to therefore try to attack the humans. So that means the Shinigami captain has to do his job and stay _between_ the humans and the Arrancar that wants to eat them. And no, his moves aren't OP - that was a long-range Ryuusenka, improved because of his increased age affecting his ability to access his full powers. And Luppi is a corpse until Kurotsuchi's control, so of course he's weaker than normal.

3) The next time you review my story, know that we **_obviously_** have differing views on how humans and humanoids feel emotions and react to those emotions. This will obviously play into anything you find OOC. And I don't always explain things in the same chapter that I introduce those concepts in, because I don't write my stories so that my readers know everything while the characters flounder. I write my stories so that readers and the characters find things out at around the same pace. Or at least, I try to do that. It's not my fault if my hints are too subtle, or if my logic isn't readily apparent. I don't want it to be readily apparent. It's too easy that way.

~avtorSola


	23. Coping Mechanisms

**A/N: To everyone who left me encouragements or expressed your support on the note I wrote you all, thank you so much. It means a lot that you guys have my back, and I just want to say that I love all of you. Sorry that the note wasn't a chapter - here is the real chapter 22!**

 **IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! I have now made an A03 account - my username there is still avtorSola. Both 'Transition Period' and 'Dragon Blade' will be cross-posted there. Please don't report them for plagiarizing!**

 **Also, I know I said I would post this 'early next week.' I didn't manage to post it then - sorry about that. I had a case of writer's block crop up in one of the most recent chapters I'm writing; there was just one scene I couldn't get write. (puns!)**

 **The first Omake is at the bottom of the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

The ground blinked into existence, grass and dirt rushing forward to meet him, but it stopped a few inches from his nose, his limbs snapping back into life like rubber bands. He shook himself, disoriented, head spinning violently, leaning heavily on whoever had caught him, then bent onto the solid earth and dry heaved for a few painful minutes before the ferocious wooziness dissipated and he could breathe properly again.

What the hell was _that_?

"Hitsugaya-kun, are you okay?"

The voice was soft, clipped with upset but also trembling with genuine concern. Hitsugaya carefully pushed himself upright, limbs shaking a little bit, his body still reacting violently to whatever had just happened. Yaoyorozu had caught him, her arms wrapped securely around his torso, but she let go as he sat upright.

"…what…what happened?"

She took a deep breath, obviously still shaken, and he looked past her pale face to see a slumped Mandalay in Tora's arms, her breathing erratic, the little boy Kouta sobbing nearby. Aizawa was also down, curled onto his side, but he at least seemed conscious. Kan-san was near him, talking to his fellow teacher in an undertone, and a dazed-looking Todoroki sat between Aizawa and Mandalay, his left side on fire to provide warmth. Midoriya lay unconscious to Aizawa's left, Uraraka holding a bag of ice to his temples.

"…One of the villains had the ability to compress people down into tiny spheres, and they caught you. Midoriya-kun…he attacked before the Pussycats and managed to punch the guy who had trapped you and Bakugo-kun. It made the villain lose his grip on the two of you…but then a giant monster – a Nomu – came out of the woods, broke four of Mandalay's ribs, and charged the rest of the class. I don't know how it knew to come here – the radios and cell phones only just started working again in the last few minutes, but…after it showed up…"

Hitsugaya sighed, already knowing the rest of the story. He still felt a little guilty over the phone service and radio connectivity, however.

"Aizawa-sensei and Kan-san stepped in to fight the Nomu, didn't they? That's why Aizawa-sensei is hurt."

Yaoyorozu nodded wordlessly, her hands anxiously folding together over and over, molding imaginary clay between her palms.

"Midoriya-kun would have died if Pixiebob and Tora hadn't been there to protect him – it turned into seven on two because the pair that Aizawa was fighting came over," she murmured, her eyes wide and starting to fill with tears. "He grabbed at both of the little marbles you'd been put inside, but then the scaled villain hit Midoriya-kun's wrist with the hilt of that massive sword, broke Midoriya-kun's wrist, and knocked him out. Tora pulled him to safety, but the masked villain…he released one of the marbles Midoriya-kun had and it was just…just grass and dirt. He showed us Bakugo-kun's marble then said the other one was actually you, though, and that he was letting us take you back as a gesture of respect. Then the warp-gate villain appeared and they were gone. That was ten minutes ago now…the marble you were inside of only just broke and released you."

He'd been captured. By a human, no less. And then also released by that same human, like a gesture of goodwill. How humiliating. Toushiro buried his face in his hands, wrestling with that for a long moment before he got to his feet with a stumble. Yaoyorozu was quick to pull him back to the ground, pressing both of her hands to his shoulders. Her tear-filled eyes were glistening with pent-up fear and shock, a quivering smile on her lips.

"No, s-sit down. You've bled through the bandages I put on you and the ambulances are only about five minutes out right now, now that we've managed to call them."

Hitsugaya looked at her, seeing the terror sparkle in her eyes, the calmness she was trying to project even through it was clear that she was falling apart at the seams. He sighed with some resignation.

"It's going to be okay, Yaoyorozu," he said, allowing his tone to drop into the soothing one he'd always used to reassure to injured soldiers. She stiffened, her shoulders shaking, and bit her lip in an effort to keep herself from dissolving. He could feel his icy exterior soften at the sight. It was like he was back in his division, comforting an unseated soldier after their first losing battle.

"You and Hagakure-san got the trackers on the villains?" he asked gently. She nodded shakily, her knuckles white on her lap, and he offered her a compassionate, understanding smile, the type he'd give a man grieving over the loss of their comrades despite their best efforts.

"You did well, Yaoyorozu," he sighed, "you gave us a chance to find Bakugo. Everyone is alive, and I highly doubt that Nedzu-sensei is going to just let those reprobates get away with attacking a secret training camp and kidnapping a student. It's going to be okay."

She nodded silently again, her entire body still tense, and finally he steeled himself for what would inevitably come next. Then he took a deep breath, reached out, and cautiously pulled the girl into his chest with one arm, giving her the awkward one-armed hug that Matsumoto had so often needed after Ichimaru's betrayal. For a second she was silent, motionless, and the next she'd buried her face in his shoulder and thrown her hands around him, muffling tears in his shirt. He sighed again, rubbing her back as she sobbed, then looked past her head to see his classmates gazing at him. Mineta looked distinctly jealous, but the rest seemed to understand what he was trying to do – quite a few of them were comforting each other as well. Hagakure and Kouda seemed especially shaken, and Ojiro was talking to them in a quiet undertone in an effort to calm them down.

It only took a few minutes for Yaoyorozu to calm down, but he let her continue to hide her face in his shoulder for as long as she needed to, his hand resting lightly on her back. He'd done the same for Matsumoto many times before.

But he took the opportunity to survey the damage done, evaluating everyone's injuries with a critical eye. Only a few students seemed to be injured in any way, Midoriya and Todoroki among the most concerning due to the probability of them having concussions. However, a fair number of Class 1-B's students, who had been out in the forest, were still asleep, the shock of his thick reiatsu still lingering over them. Tokoyami and Shouji were still at large, but he could tell with just a quick touch that both of them were mostly unharmed and moving, though separately.

In fact, the only serious injuries appeared to be Mandalay's and Aizawa's. He couldn't quite tell what was wrong with his teacher, but he suspected that the man had likely taken a nasty blow or three to the stomach, or had also had a few ribs broken.

The only true losses here were that Bakugo had been kidnapped, and that Ragdoll had gone missing.

And that he'd been humiliated by a simple human Quirk.

It all stung.

The ambulances arrived alongside several police officers, and without even a moment's hesitation, paramedics wove their way through the students, several heading for the people who sported visible injuries while a few spares checked over the remaining students. Toushiro watched as the medics carefully packed Mandalay away inside one of the ambulances, Aizawa following her a moment later. Midoriya was next, lifted onto a stretcher, his head firmly supported by two paramedics, and Hitsugaya twitched as the kind teenager was hidden from his sight.

Then one of the paramedics stopped in front of him, the grey eyes trained on his bandaged arm. Hitsugaya gritted his teeth, glaring up at the middle-aged woman with some warning as she knelt down. Yaoyorozu drew away as the medic came closer, rubbing at eyes made red and puffy with saltwater, then stood and backed away.

"…h-he's got a long wound on his arm – I tried to wrap it up but I believe it's still bleeding…" Her voice shook, but it was strong, and it was clear that she'd composed herself. The medic gave her a reassuring smile and a murmur of gratitude, and then Hitsugaya had to deal with the woman pressing her hand to his forehead. Faint tingling traveled down his body and he stiffened at the odd sensation just in time for the woman's grey eyes to widen in alarm. Probably her Quirk.

He recoiled as she tried to take hold of his shoulders, rippling to his feet in an easy single motion. The woman flinched, startled by his reaction.

"You need to lay down, son. You've lost twenty-one percent of your blood volume-" she started, worry clear in her eyes, but he cut her off with an icy glare.

"I'm fine. I'll need stitches at the most, maybe a cauterization." His tone was cold, posture stiff. "See to everyone else first before you come to me."

His gaze lingered on Todoroki, who was being spoken to at the fringes of the group. The heterochromatic teenager had an ice pack on the back of his head and was being checked over by a pair of paramedics, but otherwise he seemed okay. Hitsugaya's gaze strayed erratically towards Midoriya's ambulance, then towards Aizawa's, the soft human glow of their reiatsu flickering steadily against the inside of his soul.

They were fine. He had to keep telling himself that, the faintness of their reiatsu highly unnerving. He'd always been around individuals with strong reiatsu, save his dear departed Granny, so feeling such weak reiatsu from the people he was grudgingly starting to care for was stressful. It was too easy to forget that humans were naturally this weak, this fragile, too easy to think that two of his friends were on the brink of death.

The muggy summer air trickled sweat down his back as he turned towards the tree line, away from the shocked medic. Helpless anger began to tighten and compress in his chest, his efforts to keep the rage and upset off his face and buried beneath his icy veneer slipping.

Midoriya had been hurt because of him, trying to protect him. Aizawa had been injured because he had been trapped by a simple human Quirk, unable to take on the Nomu that had rampaged towards the students. A Nomu had slipped through his fingers because he'd been careless enough to underestimate the strength of these human Quirks – or if not their strength, at least their versatility and the range of possible abilities they offered.

Why did this always happen to him? What omniscient, omnipotent being had it out for him? Why couldn't he – for _once_ in his fucking life – succeed at protecting the people he was trying to let into his heart?

It was like he was cursed to forever leave a trail of death and destruction through his allies. First had been his living parents, when he'd been born with the wrong looks and immediately been declared demon spawn. Next had been Granny, when Hyourinmaru had called to him from his seat on the moon and frozen his soul. Then it had been Kusaka, whose spirit had quailed under the ferocious onslaught of his uncontrolled power. Then Hinamori, when blind wrath had swept over him like an inexorable glacier. And then his own men, and the Eleventh Division, because he'd been weak enough to succumb to injury and fall into enemy hands.

And now. He was lucky that the injuries seemed to be proportional to the fragility of living humans, at least, but there was no guarantee that it would last. Why hadn't he yet learned to close off his heart completely, to shut everyone out for their own safety?

Suddenly there was a loud wail from the five-year-old boy that had been so withdrawn the whole time that the U.A. students had been at the training camp, and Hitsugaya turned his head to look, ire spiking. The little boy was lashing out, punching at the paramedics trying to climb into the back of Mandalay's ambulance.

"I hate you stupid heroes!" He was screaming, sobbing all at once. "All you do is _die_!"

The anger boiling in Hitsugaya's soul came to a peak, and before he realized what he was doing he'd stepped, crossing the meters in a split second, and grabbed the child by the collar. The boy choked in surprise as he was lifted off the ground, his hands clutching in vain at Toushiro's whitening knuckles. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki both yelled, but the blood pounding in his ears was like the roar of an avalanche, drowning everything else out. The boy kicked uselessly, tears pouring down his cheeks, his eyes going wide, his whole body starting to shake violently. Fear lit a pale glint in those wide eyes, the creeping chill of ghostly furor starting to seep from Hitsugaya's skin, his essence as a dead creature starting to leak slightly.

Finally, Toushiro wrested himself under control, capping his power again and found his tongue.

"…they die so kids like you don't have to, you selfish brat!"

It wasn't what he was going to say, but those were the words that came out of his mouth nonetheless. The boy stopped struggling for a minute, the front of his shirt straining in Toushiro's shaking fist. He whimpered, dark eyes wide.

"They're _stupid_!" the child howled. Toushiro sucked in a sharp breath, winded without reason. The anger melted away, once again losing direction. This kid was _five_. He was two-hundred and seven, a shinigami captain who had seen more death and despair than any living human ever could. And he was getting angry at a five-year-old.

What was he _doing_?

"Yes," he agreed weakly, and carefully set the little boy back on his feet. "Maybe they are. But as long as there are bad guys in the world…there have to be good guys to protect selfish little brats like you. And the people who choose to be the good guys…all they can do is their best. Don't belittle them because they choose to save other people, because somewhere out there is a little kid just like you who's dying because they didn't have a hero to protect them."

The boy burst into violent sobs and buried his face in his hands. Toushiro stood there in front of him, feeling somehow even more inadequate than before. Then the kid looked up at him, misery and hurt in those eyes.

"You don't want to be a hero. I heard you talking to the bad guy," the little boy sniffed, his nose running and red. "Why?"

Toushiro opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, not quite knowing how to explain it. Then he lowered his gaze to the little boy's weeping stare. He barely noticed it when the ambulances began to drive off, too lost trying to find an answer for the boy. The kid tugged on his wrist after a long minute.

"…If you had to choose between saving Mandalay or saving ten people that you don't know, what would you do?"

The little boy froze. Hitsugaya knew that the question had stumped the kid, and he offered the kid a bitter smile.

"It's an impossible question," he said softly. "But people like Mandalay and Midoriya, real heroes…they would refuse to choose one of those options. They'd save everyone at the cost of their own lives. That's what makes them heroes – their ability to always have morals. But me…I can't afford that kind of short-term thinking. I'd prefer to be hated and considered evil as long as I'm saving as many lives as I can."

The boy stared, tears still streaming down his face and Hitsugaya reached out to tousle the kid's hair for a quick second. He wasn't sure if that had gone over the boy's head or not – it would have made perfect sense to him when he was physically five, but he had been a rather precocious child. He still _was_ a precocious child by shinigami standards.

"You should want to be a hero," Toushiro said softly. "Because if you can truly call yourself a hero, then you can pass on or look back at your life and know that you always tried to use whatever special abilities you had to protect and save others."

The little boy shook his head fiercely, but his conviction looked shaken. Hitsugaya regarded him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Then don't criticize people who only want to help," he said, and pointed after the ambulance that Mandalay had been carted off in. "Especially her. She was protecting you, you know."

The little boy seemed lost for words, and as he sat down heavily on his small tush, the grey-eyed paramedic from before ran up and carefully took his uninjured arm, pulling him away from the boy and over to one or two now-free medics. Yaoyorozu met him over there, looking upset as he was forced to sit down.

"Hitsugaya-kun, that boy is five," she murmured in a low undertone. Toushiro smiled wryly, not in any particular mood to deal with disapproval or criticism.

"I fought in battle for the first time when I was seven. Your point is…?"

Yaoyorozu's stern expression slid into confusion and wavering disapproval, obviously at a loss for words. Hitsugaya turned away from her, closing his eyes against the world as the paramedics examined his arm. The slow roar of the shrieking wind in deep in his soul began to ring in his ears, the comforting bite of deep winter spreading through him. He could hear Hyourinmaru's breathing echoing in the sky, the sliding crackle of snow and ice grinding against scales harder than diamond.

He opened his eyes to his inner plain.

The moon shone in the sky, a weak, pale light suited to his inner world, and he sighed in resignation, gazing out across the glacier he stood on. A ring of tall, snow-capped peaks bordered the edges of his inner world, and though he sometimes wondered what lay beyond those glinting, jagged mountains, he knew the dangers of his own soul. Straying past those mountains would be the same as entering the farthest recesses of his own mind, and if he could not find his way back to this relatively peaceful plain his body would become a shell and he would fall into a coma so complete that he would never wake up again.

He'd been past the mountains only once before, just after Aizen had cut him down in the Seijotokyorin where he'd been hiding, but the choice hadn't been his, then. He'd come so close to death that he had naturally woken up in a lush, starlit valley, the mountains ringing the plateau of his inner world disappearing into the clouds far above him. The valley had been utterly silent, as if devoid of all life, but had been lit in pale greenish starlight, the large green leaves of trees and the blades of soft grass all glowing faintly. He'd almost stayed there, had gone back to sleep and let his heart stop, let his breathing cease, but he'd heard Matsumoto weeping in some far off place and had known he'd had to return.

So he'd scaled the mountain. It had been the most painful thing that he'd ever done.

 _"_ _Heavy thoughts, little one."_

Hyourinmaru's snout shook, snow falling from his glistening icy scales, and Toushiro looked down to see that his dragon had carved a bed out of the glacier, allowing snow to bury his body so that the plain appeared deserted. Hitsugaya knelt down in the snow by his dragon's head, stroking the scales with a melancholy smile.

"I failed again," he sighed, "I allowed a human to best me. And not only that, he humiliated me by releasing me as a gesture of 'goodwill,' so to speak."

 _"_ _I know. I am disappointed as well. But…something tells me that you were not let go by a mere whim. After all, think of the image you presented to them."_

"…Oh," Toushiro realized softly. He hadn't thought about that before, but…he had killed a Hollow, a being who looked human, and had stopped Muscular's punch cold. He'd been openly scornful towards the ideas of heroism, and put on a slightly-deranged air. There was nowhere a normal teenager like himself could be going in hero society – nowhere except a prison cell, that is. The villains knew that.

"They think I am a villain at heart – one who will have nowhere to go once it becomes clear to the police what transpired here today. They…expect me to seek them out eventually."

Hyourinmaru rumbled in agreement, a low hum of quiet neutrality.

 _"_ _Perhaps now you will not underestimate these humans any longer, little one. They are starting to see through you, and these villains…not to play devil's advocate, but as of now, if they are allied with Hollows beyond Antenor and have enlisted the villain Kurogiri's assistance, then they may be your best chance of returning to Seireitei."_

"…It has always been a possibility. Kurogiri's ability could be the key to returning home. But…I am reluctant to take such drastic measures. Especially now that the Hollows may have allied themselves with the League of Villains, or at least some other villainous organization…"

There was a puff of blisteringly cold air, and Toushiro wrinkled his nose as the dragon's breath breezed over him. He lay back in the snow, spread-eagled in the soft drifts of particulate ice as he mulled that over. Hyourinmaru kept silent for several long minutes, then blew another puff of air from his slitted nostrils.

 _"_ _The humans think you've passed out. They're panicking."_

Hitsugaya found that he couldn't bring himself to care. Hyourinmaru didn't bring the issue up again, obviously aware of his master's turmoil. But he said nothing, just letting the wind shriek piercingly around the faraway peaks of ice and rock. Finally, Toushiro broke, unable to bear the silence any longer.

"…you know, I don't get it."

The dragon hummed, the sound a low rumble of gentle encouragement, a prod for clarification. Hitsugaya stared up at the velvet darkness and the pale silver moon. His mind had drifted, turning inward in self-reflection, and he chewed on his bottom lip lightly, turning it pink and puffy.

"Why am I so angry over little things?" Toushiro asked aimlessly. "What that little boy said shouldn't have provoked such a violent reaction from me, but I couldn't hold it in. Bakugo's abduction shouldn't be affecting me, but I can't help but reach for his reiatsu and feel guilt when I cannot find it. The humans' injuries shouldn't make me feel failure. I have allowed Yaoyorozu to hug me, coddle me, allowed Midoriya to scold me, allowed Todoroki to infuriate me and question me, and I cannot afford to allow them such power over my heart. And now…I have a clear lead, a possible way to return to Seireitei, and yet I am hesitating over a group of fifteen-year-olds and some teachers…."

Hyourinmaru snorted with some measure of derision, and Hitsugaya squalled as the sharp exhale sent snow flying into the air, landing squarely on his face. The dragon chuffed with amusement.

 _"_ _Your heart is still confused, and the echoes of your past are discordant reminders of the pain you have endured,"_ Hyourimaru pointed out with a sigh, _"And beyond this, you have grown attached to these humans that have taken you in and accepted you as few other people have. You feel anger and guilt and failure for your perceived shortcomings because you know that you had the ability to instantly resolve the situation, but your duty to Seireitei prevented you from doing so. That guilt is part of the reason you have not yet sought out Kurogiri and his warping abilities – you care for the humans that shelter you."_

"But I can't ignore the oaths I swore – I swore my whole life as a shinigami to Seireitei. Now that Luppi has shown his face, it's entirely possible that more Arrancar have figured out how to travel between this dimension and the Living World – and it's possible that Seireitei has figured it out as well. Eventually I'll have to choose between these humans and my duty, and I can't afford to hesitate."

The dragon's tail lashed, sending a wave of snow off to the side, and for the first time Hitsugaya felt the glacier beneath his back creak ominously. Hyourinmaru's maw opened in a yawn, displaying foot-long ivory teeth sharp enough to cut granite.

 _"_ _I seem to recall that you have placed aside your captaincy for the sake of your heart before,"_ the dragon rebuked sternly, and Hitsugaya had to fight back a wave of fury at the reminder of his battles with Aizen. _"I think you know what you would do if when the time to choose came, for no true dragon fears to follow their heart when their morals are in question – and I think it is this knowledge that scares you. You do not wish to be forced to go back on your word, and yet you know in your heart that you would break worlds for the people you truly love."_

The starless sky glinted with a hint of silver, the plain of unbroken snow and ice reflecting moonlight in sheets of white. Toushiro shifted in the snow, rolling onto his side.

"I care for them. Three months in, and I care for them already."

The ice-drake snorted, but the biting edge to his thunderous voice had vanished, an amused sort of resignation bubbling off his white tongue.

 _"_ _Your soft heart cannot hide in this cracked glacier forever, little one,"_ Hyourinmaru rumbled gently. _"Even though the snow masks the crevices in a cold veil, you know as well as I that the deep gorges and long cracks in this glacier are numerous. You are far from impenetrable, and these children, through acceptance of your flaws, have fallen through the snow into your heart beneath."_

Hitsugaya closed his eyes, the dragon's breath puffing over him, and Hyourinmaru shifted. Cold scales looped carefully about his lean body, the dragon's tail coiling protectively around him. He sighed in resignation, slowly letting himself fall asleep. He'd let the humans worry over him if they absolutely had to.

"I know."

* * *

Aizawa prodded gingerly at his side, still waiting for a twinge of pain from the broken ribs he no longer had. Recovery Girl had come to see him shortly after Mandalay had come out of surgery, and had fully healed him in a single kiss. Then she'd gone off to see Mandalay and Midoriya. But she'd left him exhausted enough to take a three-hour nap, and he'd only just woken up from the spell of sleep. It had been nice, sleeping that long. It wasn't something he often did anymore, given his work schedule.

The nurse examining his side nodded cheerfully and released him from the hospital, obviously relieved that Recovery Girl had come to see him. He was a notoriously rude patient, after all, a title he wore with some measure of pride. Very few pro-heroes seemed to realize that doctors were cautious, fragile little flowers by nature, and tended to allow for maximum recovery time regardless if the person healed quickly or not. Aizawa had discovered that being rude tended to make the doctors want him gone in the shortest time possible, and that usually meant he'd leave the hospital in a decent time frame.

All in all, everyone got what they wanted in that scenario. And he had free reign to be as grumpy as he liked without losing his job teaching the brats. It was sort of cathartic.

The brats.

He dressed himself in the clean clothes Hizashi had brought for him shortly after Kan had called in the incident – his usual garb. He had about fifteen sets of the comfortable black garments just in case something like this happened. Then he left the room he'd been treated in, setting off down the hallway with a long stride, a hint of urgency in his step. He needed to find out what the situation was with his brats. He needed to find out _yesterday_.

Kan had told him briefly that Shouji and Tokoyami had both been retrieved from the forest, a pair of high-wattage searchlights used to beat back the Quirk that had taken control of Tokoyami. They had both been unharmed, though Shouji had lost a few of his duplicating limbs trying to escape from the dead villain that had been found at the scene, his body crushed beneath a tree. The consensus was that Tokoyami had accidentally killed the villain, but given that he had very little memory of the incident, and that Shouji hadn't seen anything, there were no charges being pressed.

Not against those two, anyway. But the class problem-child had outdone himself.

Aizawa hadn't wanted to rip his hair out in a long, long time, but Hitsugaya was starting to drive him to that point. Not only was he the only student currently enrolled at U.A. with pending criminal charges and an upcoming trial, but he was also the only student who didn't appear to _care_ that he could end up being a convicted felon if he didn't play his cards right. To be fair, he had a lot going for him, and he could probably cop out of serving time in jail by pleading insanity, or by simply making his non-human status known. But it was still infuriating.

And to make everything even worse, he'd stopped making progress when it came to dealing with his PTSD. The calming techniques were clearly working, and Aizawa had been genuinely proud of the boy when he and Yaoyorozu had talked through a flashback, distracting himself enough to shut out some of the memories he'd been caught in. Yet there was still some barrier, some fundamental lack of trust that prevented the little brat from recounting his experiences. He'd even refused to write them down in a journal.

The brooding teacher rounded a corner and jogged down a flight of stairs, then headed down a brightly lit hallway until the reception desk came into view. He sighed in irritation, the scar beneath his eye pulling taut. Nedzu was there, talking to Kan, Tora, and Pixiebob with a frown, as was All Might's policeman friend, Tsukasa or something. All Might was also there, in his emaciated true form so as to avoid attracting undue attention. However, they weren't the problem – surprisingly. All Might was usually a problem. The man never knew when to sit down and shut up.

No, the problem was all the cameras and silent journalists, waiting there for something to happen.

Nedzu tapped his sneakers on the floor as Aizawa approached, his whiskers twitching cutely though his furious expression was anything but cute.

"With the exception of Bakugo-kun and Ragdoll, everyone is expected to make a full recovery, Aizawa-kun," Nedzu was talking even before he'd had a chance to open his mouth and speak, anticipating what he would ask. It was something that had always irked him, but now he was grateful for it. "Yaoyorozu-chan has already handed over the tracker she created and planted on the villains which kidnapped Bakugo. We will have to do a press release covering this incident this evening – which is also when we will be busy…elsewhere."

Aizawa's tired gaze narrowed, glaring down at the tiny mouse with some warning. He already knew what the mouse would have him do, and standing in front a dozen reporters trying to placate them with empty promises while the mission to retrieve his student went on without him was bound to leave a nasty taste in his mouth. But he said nothing for the moment, choosing instead to harden his glare at the mouse.

"My students," he demanded, "I want a little more than a promise of 'full recovery' for them."

Nedzu sighed, but it seemed he had been expecting this as well, because there wasn't even an ounce of hesitation in his beady black eyes as he rattled off the names of all the healthy students – which was thankfully a majority.

"There's a few students from both classes who were unconscious or semiconscious upon the arrival of the ambulances, for no apparent reason. They have all recovered and been released. Beyond them, Todoroki-kun suffered a mild concussion, as did Midoriya-kun, and Midoriya-kun also had a broken wrist. Recovery Girl saw to them, and they are being held for observation until tomorrow morning to let them sleep peacefully. Hitsugaya-kun is also being treated for blood loss, and had seventy-three stitches put in. Recovery Girl refrained from using her Quirk on him, however, given that he's still deeply asleep, which is worrying the doctors. He shouldn't be unable to wake up, but he's showing signs of unusual brain activity – somehow he's producing a very high amount of both gamma and delta brain waves simultaneously without much beta, alpha, or theta waves to balance that out."

Well. That was different. All Might also blinked in surprise, his sunken blue eyes glittering.

"Seventy-three stitches?"

They weren't surprised for the same reason then. But then, All Might had no reason to be shocked by the kid's exhaustion. He hadn't seen Hitsugaya glow with energy, hadn't seen the kid swing a sword and freeze half of the forest in a single blow, hadn't felt the inexorable pressure turn the air to jellied cat food. All Might hadn't been there to see Hitsugaya surpass superhuman and head straight into the supernatural.

"He's still asleep and showing unusual brain activity?"

All Might glanced at Aizawa, some degree of askance in that naïve stare, and the dark-haired man leveled a flat stare at the number one hero until the skeletal glance dropped. Nedzu nodded, cheerfully ignoring the tension between his two employees, then frowned again, turning to the homeroom teacher with a worried chitter of his teeth.

"Yes to both questions. Aizawa-kun, what happened? I've already asked most of the kids to write out statements, but the stories I've been getting are a bit fantastical-"

"The kids are telling the truth. Tora, Pixiebob, Kan, you all saw bits and pieces of it, you should know."

There was a brief silence. Then Nedzu choked. All Might stared, as did Tsukasa- no, Tsukauchi. Aizawa felt the weight of reality suddenly settle very firmly onto his shoulders, a cold nothing stealing into the pit of his stomach. He knew what this meant, and though he'd technically already known that Hitsugaya's strength, speed, and combat skill was indicative of his non-human status, there was nothing like seeing it confirmed the way it had been last night.

"…He can manipulate ice?"

Aizawa snorted, remembering the moment the boy had flown on wings of ice into the sky and called the clouds down to touch his hand. Tensou Juurin, he'd called it. Subjugation of the Heavens.

"Among other things, such as hailstorms."

"And the barrier, the swordplay, the glowing, the air pressure, the fact that he could sense the villains' approach…all of that is true?"

It almost hurt to remember how powerful the display had been. Aizawa nodded once, shoving his hands into his pockets. He missed his sleeping bag. Hizashi should have brought the spare. He wanted nothing more than to just zip his sleeping bag up to his chin and roll into a corner – and he knew was wasn't the only one. For the first time since meeting the hyper-intelligent mouse, Nedzu looked like he needed to sit down. All Might was also looking somewhat faint, though that was probably more caused by his weakened form than anything. That man was too disgustingly optimistic to really realize what everything meant.

"He told Class 1-A that he isn't human anymore," Aizawa added with a sigh, remembering that particular moment with a hint of pride in his students' behavior. "Most of the class seemed to follow Midoriya's lead in trying to ignore that particular detail. I believe most of them are simply humoring him for the moment, trying to reconcile themselves with the fact that he killed someone right in front of them."

Nedzu's whiskers vibrated, the scar over his eye turning white as the beady gaze widened. His large paws pressed together, hands beneath his mousy chin.

"…I would be glad that he is beginning to open up with his classmates," the mouse said softly, anxiety clear in his dark eyes, "but I have to admit, I was not expecting him to be so dangerous."

All Might's blue gaze widened in shock at the comment, and he took a step forward, ignoring Tsukauchi's hand on his shoulder.

"Dangerous? How on earth is that child suddenly dangerous?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "We knew before this that he has undergone some depraved villain's experiments and subsequently believes himself to not be human, and it became remarkably clear that his speed and swordplay were exceptional when the strange monsters he called Hollows attacked U.A. How is this any different?"

Nedzu glanced at Kan, and then at Aizawa, his teeth chittering again in frustration.

"According to the stories that the children have given me," the mouse bit out, his voice grim, "Hitsugaya was the first person to realize that a Hollow was attacking, and that his intervention stopped the exercise early enough that most of the students were transported back to the lodge without much incident. In addition, he fought, defeated, and reportedly killed one of the villains – the one he claimed to be a Hollow – in combat and sustained only a single, relatively minor wound, but promptly refused to engage the remainder of the villains save as a distraction. And during his time acting as a distraction, he was captured."

Nedzu looked up into All Might's emaciated face and shook his head. Aizawa could feel his stomach sinking, already putting the pieces together for himself. Hitsugaya had been the only reason that more people hadn't been hurt, and yet for the most part he'd refused to engage with the villains save in one instance. And while this behavior was the good, legal thing to do in this situation, it was beyond obvious that Hitsugaya didn't particularly care about the legality of his actions.

"If a Hollow had not been part of this attacking force, there is no guarantee that Hitsugaya-kun would have intervened," Nedzu pointed out to All Might, frowning grimly. "From the stories the children wrote down for me, it seems that Hitsugaya became alerted to the situation when a 'high-grade Hollow' met up with ten human 'signatures.' It indicates that he knew about the presence of the villains beforehand and did not mention them prior to this Hollow's arrival."

Aizawa watched as comprehension dawned on the number one hero's wasted face. The man wasn't stupid – he knew what that meant.

"You think that he would stand back and watch people get hurt unless one of these Hollows appears, even if he was licensed to intervene," All Might finished the thought easily, "It's not that he cannot use his powers on humans, as he told us earlier, but that he won't – or can't, for some reason – even use those powers _around_ humans."

Nedzu nodded, patting a wrinkle out of his tiny suit. Then he leapt, bounding up, and Kan caught him, helping the small principal to settle down on top of his off-duty flannel shirt.

"And that means he's – at best – a neutral party. We've been assuming this whole time that this mysterious organization he's bound to has a similar end-goal to us, to stamp down on the evil in society. But his lack of significant intervention without the presence of the Hollow-creature makes me think that this organization of his doesn't particularly care about the wellbeing of humans as long as these creatures don't attack us."

At this, the mostly-silent police officer finally spoke up, his dark eyes gleaming.

"I will go ahead and assume that there is a significant story behind your assessments of this child being some version of a non-human being, but as for the rest – he has no legal ability to pursue Hollows at this moment, especially since there is no proof that these Hollows aren't actually humans at this point in time, and until there is conclusive proof that a Hollow is not human – and that this child himself is a non-human – his actions can be classified as third-degree murder and illegal vigilantism," Tsukauchi frowned, his suit creasing as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I'll have to add this to his criminal record – it will likely come up at his trial."

The discussion took a sharp turn into silence then, the reminder of Hitsugaya's court date a grim reminder of just what the kid was capable of. Aizawa excused himself after a few tense year-long minutes, shaking off All Might's beseeching hand in order to accost the receptionist, find his students' room numbers, and head off down the hallway. All Might didn't try to follow him, and as he approached Midoriya, Hitsugaya, and Todoroki's shared room, he gradually relaxed.

Midoriya and Todoroki were awake, sitting up on the ends of their hospital cots and speaking in low voices when he arrived. They both looked up as he walked in, looking surprised to see him visiting.

"Oh, Aizawa-sensei. You're okay?" Todoroki asked, eyeing him with a somewhat critical glance. The dark-haired teacher leveled an even stare at the fifteen-year-old.

"I would think that would be obvious."

He let his gaze wander as Todoroki nodded, completely unfazed by his curt response – god, these kids were getting too comfortable around him – and sighed as he saw the room's third occupant. Hitsugaya was sleeping in the bed furthest from the door, his right arm rewrapped in a layer of gauze, a saline drip hooked into his uninjured arm. His sword had been fastened securely to the foot of his bed with steel bolts, and Aizawa could see a psychologist's tag attached to it, probably to prevent other hospital staff from confiscating the weapon. One one side of his bed, a silent EEG had been packed up, the electrodes wrapped neatly into coils beside the machine they were attached to on a rolling cart.

Aizawa took a few steps forward until he was standing over the sleeping teenager, unsure whether to yield to the annoyance over Hitsugaya's continued disregard for adding to his own track record or to the worry over the teenager's mental and physical wellbeing. The result was a terribly exhausting mix of both, and he slumped down in the chair by the sleeping teenager's bed, burying his head in his hands. Midoriya hummed a little bit in that hesitant way of his, but Aizawa didn't bother shooting him a look. The kid would quiet down soon enough and leave him to his thoughts.

"Aizawa-sensei…why is Hitsugaya-kun enrolled in the hero course at U.A.?"

Scratch that – looks like Hitsugaya had rubbed off on Midoriya a little bit. Then the question registered, and Aizawa shot an incredulous stare at Midoriya, somewhat pleased to see the same expression on Todoroki's face. The reckless kid was staring down into his lap, frowning horribly, obviously struggling with some internal question. Aizawa had to stifle a groan. Honestly, the kid should already understand this.

"Hitsugaya-kun has some…very unique abilities, as I'm sure you're aware," the dark-haired teacher explained dryly. "Placing him in the hero course initially allowed us to more carefully observe his Quirk, and now allows for the U.A. staff to more closely monitor his non-human abilities. There's also the fact that Hitsugaya-kun would be classified as a Tier 1 villain should he go rogue, and given his psychological state…the thorough monitoring is very helpful."

Midoriya suddenly shook his head.

"That…that's not what I meant," he murmured, his voice dropping off, "I meant, why is he enrolled in the _hero_ course? He almost seems disdainful toward the concept of being a hero at times and…I mean, after talking with him I understand that he struggles with moral dilemmas a lot but…he _killed_ someone without hesitating, even though he had reasons for doing so. And he's been through so much already – enough to make him believe he's lost his humanity. Wouldn't…wouldn't it have been better to place him in the General Studies course so he didn't have to keep wading through all the moral grey areas he's finding?"

Ah, this was a better question, one that betrayed the real reasons that the obnoxiously-bright kid was confused. Aizawa let out a long sigh, then turned fully around in his chair to face the brooding boy.

"Midoriya, either question your own view of the world, or question his," the teacher groaned, setting his head on the back of the chair. His hair fell into his eyes, but he didn't bother trying to fix that shaggy mess. "I think you'll find that Hitsugaya-kun's moral compass is likely stronger than yours – it just differs. And you're struggling with that difference."

Todoroki glanced over at his teacher then, looking distinctly uncomfortable for a moment before he turned to Midoriya, his gaze downcast. The heterochromatic teenager had a thick swath of bandages wrapped around his head, and he rubbed at these as he spoke, obviously irritated by their presence.

"…you know, Endeavor killed one of the Nomu as well, a self-regenerating one. He burnt its head off – turned the cells to charcoal so it couldn't regenerate. And I know he's killed dangerous villains on missions before."

Midoriya bit his lip, wavering, then glanced at the sleeping Hitsugaya helplessly, his lip quivering.

"…I guess I just…always expected heroes to save people," Midoriya said after a long minute. "I mean, I know logically that they have to defeat villains as well, and that sometimes people get killed but…I never expected anyone to just _accept_ it the way that Hitusgaya-kun has. He shouldn't have had to…and the fact that he believes that he really isn't human anymore…"

Aizawa let out a long breath, feeling just a hint of empathy for the sunshine student. That eternally-positive mentality that All Might had seemed to ooze had eventually infected every corner of hero society, and it was sometimes very difficult for students to realize that eventually, they would be faced with some very tough choices. He – luckily – had never had that problem. After all, he'd started out as a vigilante that eventually gained enough notoriety and successful no-casualty villain captures that he'd been offered a pardon and an official license. He'd refused the offers from the hero offices though. He preferred to work on his own, in the shadows.

Fame was for people who could afford to always take the moral high ground.

"Hitsugaya-kun has had far more experience with life-or-death situations than any of my students, if my intuition and his own words can be trusted. If he had not accepted that heroes and villains must all face death at some point, he likely would not have survived," Aizawa kept his voice dry, not allowing even a hint of understanding into his voice. This was a lesson best learned early on, before a hero career was their only choice. Those who couldn't cope with it needed to learn and accept that before they were scarred too deeply.

Midoriya wasn't any different. In fact, given the power of his Quirk, it was all the more imperative that he learn how to deal with the realization that one day, to save others, he might have to cripple or kill. But he was right, at least in one regard. Hitsugaya was entirely too comfortable with killing. Even if he was killing these Hollows, the ones that supposedly ate humans and each other.

Aizawa folded his hands together in his lap, eyeing the unconscious delinquent with a critical eye. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had to admit that Nedzu was right. Hitsugaya was dangerous, for the sole reason that there was no guarantee he would follow established rules and laws if it meant he could accomplish whatever orders this mysterious organization gave him. And even more worrisome was that he seemed to have an agenda of his own – one that he hadn't yet revealed. He wanted something, and not even Nedzu knew what that something was. But at the end of the day, one fact remained.

Hitsugaya was powerful, dangerous, and out for the blood of a supervillain. And no school rule or law would be enough to stop him.

* * *

 **~OMAKE~** (and on THIS season of 'The Bachelor'...)

Pairing: Adult!HitsugayaxAizawa

Category: Pure Crack

"...Shouta, why is the floor meowing at me?"

Shouta looked up from the laminated menu only to see that the willowy man across from him was glaring down at the floor, having a staring contest with his MOST FAVORITE cat - the one that even Hizashi had nearly been stabbed for hating. He looked at his date again, tracing over the gangling arms and legs as slowly as he dared before locking his gaze on the fine sculpture of that golden face. Hitsugaya stuck his bottom lip out, pouting when the tabby cat hissed, and set his chin in his hand so he could stare unblinkingly into Shouta's gaze.

Dammit, this man was the living embodiment of a _kitten._

 _HIS ONE TRUE WEAKNESS._

"It's a cat café, Toushiro."

Toushiro's pout shifted into hauteur.

"No, really, I hadn't guessed. Why are we here again?"

The tabby cat stopped hissing at that, regarding Hitsugaya with a more interested look now. Then she leapt up onto the table, sitting right in Shouta's face. Two pairs of green eyes blinked at him. This wasn't _fair_. Just seconds ago they'd hated each other and now they were ganging up on him?

"...I like cats," he muttered.

Toushiro grinned at him and the tabby cat meowed. Then she trotted over to sit in Toushiro's lap until their espresso (Shouta) and green tea (Toushiro) arrived, along with the sandwiches they'd ordered. The dual Kitten-eyes continually assaulted him throughout the course of the date, unfairly pressing all of his buttons. Finally, Shouta snapped.

"What _is_ it?"

Toushiro jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a woman with a camera. She paled and started running almost immediately.

"How much would the tabloids pay to see you on a date with a former student in a cat café?"

Aizawa blanched, remaining utterly silent. Hitsugaya burst out laughing, tossed the money down on the table, then pulled Shouta to his feet.

"Alright, let's go chase her down and break her camera."

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 **The next pairing is: Send a review with the BnHA character you want to see date Hitsugaya, lol**

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 **Reviews in the box, please and thank you and I love you all!**


	24. Non-Negotiable

**A/N: I'm alive, guys (somehow). You know the drill - writers' block plus real-life events plus new job nonsense...ugh.  
Anyway, my muse came running back to me at some point, so at least there's that. But, of course, she came running back like "Wouldn't it be cool if you _rewrote the entire plot?!11!_ " So...yeah. That happened.**

 **In other news: I now have an A03 account and a DeviantArt account, both with the username 'avtorSola'. And the wonderful sophiebybophie on DeviantArt drew a wonderful fanart of U.A.-Hitsugaya - thank you so much to that lovely person!**

 **Now, enjoy the story!**

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Midoriya heard the soft sigh about a half-hour after Aizawa-sensei had taken a seat by Hitsugaya's bed, and he looked up from his tumbling ruminations to see that Toushiro's jade gaze had blinked open, his golden face expressionless. Instantly breathing felt a thousand times easier. He hadn't been conscious when Hitsugaya had reportedly passed out in Yaoyorozu's lap, but waking up to see his recently-captured friend lying asleep in a hospital bed with an IV stuck in one arm, the other swathed in bandages from shoulder to wrist, had been a particularly unpleasant experience.

"Hitsugaya-kun…"

Toushiro's gaze swiveled briefly to him, then locked onto Aizawa. The teenager sat up easily, a fluid grace in his movements, and glanced down at the IV in his arm. With a sniff of disdain, he slid the needle out of his skin and pushed the IV stand away, then waved a flash of pale green light over the crook of his elbow and caused the puncture wound to instantly vanish. Aizawa just watched, a level, neutral blankness cloaking his thoughts. Midoriya and Todoroki both stiffened when Aizawa said nothing about Hitsugaya's rejection of the hospital treatment, unsure of what to make of the interaction.

"…You're being charged with third-degree murder, Hitsugaya-kun. And another count of vigilantism, on top of what happened in Hosu."

Midoriya leaned forward over his knees, trying to stop his head from spinning as the room picked up the pace, rotating like a centrifuge wheel at a cheap amusement park. Third degree murder? _Hitsugaya?_ But it was what he'd done, wasn't it? Human or not, he'd still killed a sentient being in combat, and the only remorse he'd shown had seemed to stem from empathy and not any real regret for the life he'd taken.

"I'll deal with that as it comes, Aizawa-sensei." Toushiro's voice was firm, almost bored. "What news on Bakugo's kidnapping?"

Aizawa raised an eyebrow in surprise, his stubbly beard barely peeking out over the top of his scarf. Midoriya exchanged a long look with Todoroki, shocked that Toushiro would ask so bluntly.

"He was abducted by Shigaraki Tomura's group, the League of Villains. You already know that."

Hitsugaya shook his head, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh.

"You know what I'm asking, Aizawa-sensei."

The teacher's dark eyes hardened into a firm glare, his voice turning a shade more guttural.

"You're not going, Hitsugaya-kun. You're a student, and you don't have a hero license."

"You can't stop me."

There was a pregnant pause. Midoriya stared openly, mouth dropping. Todoroki inhaled sharply in the bed across from him, mist steaming from his lips. Aizawa regarded Toushiro coolly, as if measuring his student's strength the way that characters do in video games. Hitsugaya met that critical gaze evenly, a faint hint of burning anger hidden deep within those jade eyes.

"Aizawa-sensei, you've seen how powerful I am now. I have no reason to hide my abilities anymore," he murmured, eyes starting to glow with that uncanny, inhuman pale light, a ghostly tinge suddenly illuminating his skin in icy pale blue. "Do you really think there is _anyone_ who can stop me?"

The dark-haired teacher kept his expression flat, but Midoriya saw the vein in his forehead pulse once, his knuckles whitening with tension. For a moment, Izuku thought that he saw the dark stare flash red, but that might have been the sunlight pouring in from the window obscuring his vision.

"Some would call your actions villainy, should you ignore the law in such an egregious way."

Hitsugaya snorted, the light surrounding him fading into nothing. But something had changed. There was a palpable aura that clung to his skin now, an intimidating, yawning _something_ that whispered in the air around him, a dark flame burning behind him. The white of his hair suddenly seemed eerily insubstantial, teeth glaring in a sneer.

"If you think I give two shits about human laws, you're sorely mistaken. The only reason I've been playing along is because ideally, I would never have been forced to reveal that I'm not human," Hitsugaya said after a long moment, something threatening in his voice. For the first time in a long time, Midoriya found himself frightened by Hitsugaya's demeanor. "I have told you what I am supposed to do according to the law I _am_ bound by. And refusing my assistance in Bakugo's rescue would be _remarkably_ idiotic. Do you really think that it's likely only one Hollow has allied itself with the villians that kidnapped the walking explosive? You know as well as I that even your precious Symbol of Peace can do _nothing_ against them. And yet you want to leave me here."

"Hitsugaya, you're facing actual prison time now, plus whatever time you might be assigned to a psychiatric facility if you're convicted for everything that has already happened – you've lost almost any chance you have of being tried as a minor. If you add _any_ more reckless behavior to your criminal record, not even having Tsukauchi, Nedzu, and All Might vouch for your story will be enough to satisfy the judge!"

Aizawa rarely raised his voice unless he had to speak to the entire class as a single unit and they were scattered all over the place. He was very used to commanding absolute attention from his students, after all. He didn't yell. But he did occasionally snarl, a low roar of fury very unlike any other person's expression of anger. So when that snarl rose in pitch until it bordered on the edge of being a shout, it was shocking. Izuku almost physically shrank away from the infuriated teacher, staring in awe. Todoroki also flinched briefly, his mismatched eyes going wide in surprise at the sight of Aizawa's anger.

But Toushiro did nothing. Barely even reacted. Instead he just sat there, utterly unimpressed by the threat of imprisonment.

"Aizawa-sensei, I fear you far underestimate me," the teenager said after a long pause. His voice was curiously controlled, eyes snapping with anger. The room grew cold, the air thickening slightly. Midoriya squeaked in surprise. Todoroki's hand went to his chest, massaging the muscle stretched over his lungs. "If you think any mere human prison can hold me against my will, or if the thought of incarceration will cow me into compliance, you're dead wrong."

Then Toushiro leaned forward, a wicked kind of gleam sparking into the depths of that cold green gaze. Aizawa's dark hair stood on end, his eyes glowing red, but the air pressure and the coldness of the room didn't change.

"And you know how I mentioned that I can only use my powers on humans under highly selective circumstances?" the threat in Hitsugaya's voice was all too clear. "Well, one of those circumstances involves when your kind prevent me from _doing my job_. I can't kill you. But I can hurt you. I can cripple you. And I will not hesitate to do so if you and Nedzu and your foolish government cannot _pull your heads out of your asses_ for long enough to understand that preventing me from killing Hollows will spell your own destruction."

The white-haired teenager bared his teeth in a snarl.

"I played by your rules because I wanted to fly under the radar as much as I could. But now I have been forced to reveal my hand when I didn't want to, forced to show all of you my strength. Don't think for even a second that I'll go back to that now that you know precisely what I'm capable of. And before you mention it, yes, I know I'm screwed up mentally at the moment. I won't let that stop me either."

For some reason, Izuku finally found the strength to speak then, finally found the backbone Hitsugaya had berated him for ignoring. Slowly he swung his body around to fully face his friend, frightened by the dark anger cracking like thunder in those jewel-like eyes. But Hitsugaya was his friend. Hitsugaya wouldn't hurt him. This had to be just a threat.

"…Hitsugaya-kun…you wouldn't really cripple Aizawa-sensei."

He didn't know where that strength came from, the strength to speak, only that it swelled through him like a river of liquid lightning. Suddenly the air felt more normal, though the room was still icy cold. Toushiro turned to face him, the golden face shut into a pretty gilded mask.

"If there were no other choice, I would have to even if I did not want to," Toushiro said coldly, that inhuman glint illuminating the center of his frozen gaze again. "I do not understand what is so difficult for you all to comprehend. My orders surpass all human institutions, and the punishment I would face for ignoring my duty is far greater than anything a human can come up with. If I must shatter every one of your laws in order to accomplish my mission here, then so be it. The alternative is the annhilation of humankind in this world. As I said to you earlier – I have chosen these chains for myself. I am commited to the cause I am being deployed for."

That appeared to catch Aizawa's attention, and the dark-haired man's red glare faded to onyx again. His hair fell into his face again and he let out a drawn-out sigh.

"You're committed to those people?"

Something changed. Hitsugaya went rigid, his knuckles going white on the sheets, and suddenly he seemed to stop breathing. The faint noise of a car horn going off in the hospital parking lot drifted in through open window. Toushiro smiled, the expression a bit bitter but softened by a strange kind of amusement.

"Why wouldn't I be? They're _my_ people. They're like me. And, believe it or not, I do genuinely want to protect the human race. The only difference is my method. _Our_ method."

"And the fact that you won't stop villains who are clearly trying to hurt your classmates." Aizawa's tone was neutral, but the question was clear. Toushiro shook his head.

"I- _we_ can't protect you from yourselves, sensei," he rebuked gently, his tone far different from the furiously cold anger he'd displayed just moments ago. "If I'm to help you with human villains at all, I have to develop this Quirk first – and while the dryness is at least controllable given I can rehydrate, I still can't control where the scales spread to. The powers I have beyond that – I can't use them unless there are specific circumstances."

That caught Todoroki's attention, finally, his mismatched eyes narrowing in suspicion. Midoriya though he knew why – after all, he'd had to snap the heterochromatic teenager out of that same mindset just a few short months ago.

"You _can't_ or you _won't_ fight with your powers, Hitsugaya-kun?"

At that, Toushiro frowned.

"Both," he said, "My powers are…kind of radioactive, in a sense. If I use them too much around humans, my abilities will start to rub off on you – and that residual energy signature is a massive lure for Hollows. Plus, it's illegal for me to give humans my powers in any way – the last girl who did was sentenced to execution."

Midoriya choked. Todoroki's mouth opened soundlessly for a moment, then shut with a click, his nostrils flaring and eyes wide in surprise. Aizawa sighed.

"You did mention that, yes. You never explained why. And frankly, I'm beginning to lose patience, as is Nedzu, and need I remind you that he has been protecting you thus far from the police and the press? You obviously know more than you're letting on, and you have thus far refused to share."

Toushiro tensed up, eyebrows knitting together on his forehead and falling low over his eyes. His knuckles went white on the sheets of his bed.

"I _cannot_ tell you anything more than what I've already said, Aizawa-sensei. I will likely be court-martialed for what I am revealing already, and I do not particularly want to risk execution, least of all a dishonorable execution."

There was a lingering silence. Izuku could feel the world spinning around him, his mind whirling at breakneck pace as the wall blurred into constant motion. Words floated in his ears. _Court-martial. My people. Execution. Radioactive. I can cripple you. Kill Hollows. Humans. Not anymore._

It was too much to process. Toushiro was…not human – that he'd sort of already known but hadn't quite comprehended, and definitely didn't believe to be fact yet. He'd known that people had experimented on Hitsugaya for a while – that he had severe mental scars from those encounters – and that those people were using him. But…a court-martial? Orders that surpass human laws? Dishonorable execution?

Hitsugaya wasn't just some crazy scientist's personal pet project and attack dog – he was some sort of soldier. The way everything sounded, he'd literally been _created_ to destroy these Hollows by a society that had some kind of rigid militaristic structure. And if he stepped out of line, they'd kill him…but it wasn't an issue, because he was complying of his own free will for the most part. Because he now believed in whatever cause he'd been tortured and experimented on for…?

"…dishonorable execution…?"

He barely recognized that voice as his own. Toushiro spared him a somewhat guilty glance, probably seeing how utterly _numb_ he was feeling in the face of all these revelations and blaming himself. Then the snowy-haired teenager took a breath, a slight quiver in his words.

"…my blade is named. It is sacred, in a way – a one-of-a-kind, peerless weapon, and its purpose is to cleanse Hollows. There are many like them where I am from, but some named weapons have a different purpose – executing criminals. Death by one of these weapons is considered honorable in that the criminal is recognized as a being worth more than the value of their crimes and is worthy of being honored with a proper burial afterward. However, a dishonorable execution is when a weapon with a purpose other than executing criminals or a nameless weapon is used. Those executed dishonorably are usually killed without ceremony, their names struck from any records, and their corpses are left to rot away."

Toushiro's gaze dropped, and suddenly Izuku realized that his sort-of friend was chewing on his lower lip, knuckles again white on the sheets. His eyes looked distinctly wet, as if holding back some overwhelming tide of emotion. Aizawa let out a long sigh.

"Look, kid," he said gruffly, "We know what you're saying, and we don't want you to break any laws of your people either, especially not one that could end in you being punished that severely. But there's no _proof_ of what you're saying – none that could stand up in court. We _need_ that proof. Otherwise you'll be written off as a crazy villain's victim and placed in psychiatric care. You're already toeing a dangerous line, being willing to act against specific villains – the ones you call Hollows – but not others. And frankly, we can't bend our laws for you. If you want to be able to pursue these Hollows at all, you're going to have to play by our rules for long enough that your word becomes trustworthy. If you didn't very clearly have some very powerful abilities, it's entirely likely that we would have had to dismiss this whole story as a child's imaginary daydream already. If you have _anything_ that can be used as proof, give it to us now and _behave yourself_. I don't want to see you in prison if we can get you out of it."

There was a pregnant pause. Then Hitsugaya raised his head, ice glittering in emerald eyes. The saltwater brimming in that stare was still present, the repressed tears very telling.

"…I have a phone in my room. My people's technology," Hitsugaya said quietly. "There's a lot of confidential information on it, plus it can't get a signal, so I haven't mentioned it. But I can still use the locator tech to differentiate between Hollows and humans, and you won't be able to get past the encryption without access to my powers – it's coded to respond to a specific variation in the quantum particles I emit."

Aizawa stared in clear surprise, taken aback by the information, then smiled a ghostly little smile and stood up, looking far less ominous than he had in the past. It was clear that he'd understood Hitsugaya's quiet revelation – that he had some very clearly non-human technology to support his claim – as an acceptance of authority, or some kind of resignation. Izuku bit his lip, feeling at once confused by Hitsugaya's unexpected capitulation and relieved that his friend was backing off, was willing to put his 'orders' on hold for the sake of human laws – even if he felt the same way about Bakugo, he definitely wouldn't be risking incarceration for making an illegal rescue attempt.

Maybe he could be convinced, then. The villain Hitsugaya had killed, while definitely stronger and faster than the average human, hadn't been different to the point where it was obvious that he hadn't been human. And neither, for that matter, was Hitsugaya. They both just had powers beyond what an average human had – rather like how the original humans compared to those who developed Quirks.

They _were_ still human inside. He'd seen it – had seen Hitsugaya close inward, had seen the white-haired teenager struggle with his own past as it threatened to engulf him. And somehow, somewhere, an unknown person or group had managed to not only brainwash him into believing that this group's enemies weren't human, but into believing that about himself. How painful had that been, to gradually start to believe that he'd been turned into an inhuman science experiment, to start looking in the mirror and not see a human face staring back?

No wonder Hitsugaya saw the world shaded in greyscale morality. He'd been tinkered with until he had powers no ordinary human could dream of possessing, or until his own powers had been modified to excessive proportions, then told of evil, cannibalistic Hollows and given a choice. He could either kill the Hollows and risk his own life, or he could do nothing and be guilty of murder simply because he had the power to prevent death and chose not to. Growing up with that sort of guilt and angst – little wonder Toushiro's moral code was so different.

Aizawa left the room shortly after that, cursing in an undertone when a text from Nedzu summoned him away, and the room was left in silence. Hitsugaya sighed, tucking his feet underneath his thighs, and took a deep, calming breath, lowering his eyes and folding his his hands in his lap. Midoriya and Todoroki exchanged long looks, still biting back words, and watched, baffled, as Hitsugaya's breathing began to slow. After about five minutes, it became clear that Hitsugaya had gone perfectly still except for the slow rise and fall of his chest, his gaze heavily-lidded and distant, fixed on the white sheets beneath him. Izuku blinked in surprise, vaguely recognizing what was going on, Todoroki also shot him an incredulous look.

"Is he meditating?" Todoroki whispered across the room. Izuku paused, for watching their friend's reaction, then nodded hesitantly when Hitsugaya made no indication that he was aware of their voices.

"I…I think so."

They stayed quiet – they were supposed to be quiet anyway, even though their concussions had been taken care of by Recovery Girl – glancing over every now and then to check on Hitsugaya, who was so still that he looked like a painted statue. Then Izuku's phone buzzed, Todoroki's following suit a few seconds later, and he picked it up to see a text message from Iida.

 _~We are all coming to pay you a visit, Midoriya-kun, Todoroki-kun! We shall be in your room in approximately five minutes.~_

Izuku smiled a little bit, the expression strained but genuine. Having everyone over would be nice, and might help to take his mind off…

He could still see the orb that held Kacchan wagging on the masked villain's tongue, Muscular's pain-weakened fist coming down on the back of his head even as he wrapped his hand around the small marble containing Hitsugaya, frozen in perfect miniaturized likeness. He'd missed Kacchan, taken a decoy instead, and the villains had kidnapped him. Even though Kacchan had been well within his reach, he'd failed. He'd _failed_. How could he possibly make it as a hero if he couldn't even save one person? Even Hitsugaya's save hadn't been the result of his own effort – the villains had practically given him back and then gloated about it.

It hurt, more than he was expecting it to.

Iida and the others slid the door open a few minutes later, a few people sporting patches of medical tape on their faces or arms. Kirishima led the group, his expression twisted by upset.

"Hey, are you guys okay? We heard from Aizawa-sensei that Hitsugaya-kun just woke up." Kaminari pushed past the upset redhead, his eyebrow knotted together on his forehead. Slowly, Midoriya slid his gaze to Hitsugaya, who was still sitting cross-legged on his bed, the gemstone jade of his eyes dulled into green glass, eyelids at half-mast. The teenager made no indication that he was at all aware of what was going on around him.

"…Midoriya and I are okay," Todoroki answered after a moment. "We're only being kept for observation anyway. Hitsugaya…he's not acting _strange_ , exactly, but what he's doing and saying are worrisome."

Iida's glasses flashed in surprise, and Yaoyorozu cocked her head to the side, but they weren't the only ones to visibly react to that statement. Kirishima gritted his sharp teeth, muttering something under his breath. Izuku glanced tiredly at him, as did Todoroki, and the redhead let out a huge breath.

"…damn. I was hoping…hoping he could help me get Bakugo back," the usually cheerful boy said, fists clenching at his sides, the tiny scar above his eyebrow pulling white. He glanced at Yaoyorozu, clearly very upset. "I was hoping that Yaoyorozu-san could make another tracker for us, like the one she gave the police, and…well, yeah. I was going to invite you and Midoriya too, and anyone else who wanted to come."

There was a beat of silence, and then Todoroki nodded decisively, startling Midoriya and a few of the other students.

"I'll come," he said, mismatched gaze fixed on Kirishima's earnest face. Midoriya couldn't help but feel something inside him bend at that, the desire to go curling sharp tendrils of want into his chest. Iida instantly snapped into action, eyes widening behind the thin metal frames of his eyewear.

"Absolutely not!" he barked, gesturing sharply at Kirishima and Todoroki, fury flaring in his dark blue eyes. "This is a matter that should be left to the professionals! We have no business getting in their way! And you, Todoroki-kun, Midoriya-kun, you were both in Hosu! You two should know better than this."

Kirishima's sharp teeth ground together, and the redhead tugged on his shirt, eyes nearly welling up. Midoriya unconsciously locked his jaw, fists clenching. He remembered Hosu, and the visit with the police afterwards. There was a lot at stake, taking up illegal hero work as students. Especially for Hitsugaya.

"I know that, dammit!" Kirishima's knuckles cracked violently. "But…But Bakugo was snatched away and I couldn't _do_ anything! I sat on my hands and did _nothing_! How can I call myself a man if I don't do something to save a friend?!"

"You're getting too carried away!" Iida yelled back. "You can't just break rules like this!"

Shouji put a hand on Iida's shoulder, gently pushing him back.

"Calm down, Iida-kun." One of his arms sprouted a mouth, which bobbed at Iida for a moment before moving to face the rest of the room. "Kirishima, I know how you feel. We all feel the same frustration at letting Bakugo slip beyond our grasp. But we can't make this decision based on how we feel."

Kirishima exchanged a long look with Todoroki, his sharp teeth bared in an upset grimace. His knuckles went white, his hair hardening briefly. Tsuyu-chan's large eyes blinked at them, her thin eyebrows nearly meeting on her forehead.

"I think we've all been thrown off balance by Bakugo-kun's kidnapping, but we need to stay level-headed about this," she said with an anxious frown. "And if you act based only on your feelings and choose to break the law, then that makes you the same as the villians."

Midoriya had to bite his tongue on the surge of frustration and helplessness that wanted to claw its way out of his chest through his throat. He barely realized that his hands were shaking.

"The same as the villains?"

Everyone froze at the sound of that previously-silent voice. Midoriya stiffened, then lifted his head to see raw fury burning in Hitsugaya's stare. It was a cold, haughty anger, tinged with a kind of icy irritation that had Izuku instinctively flinching back in surprise. Hitsugaya had been awake? Or ar least aware of what was going on? Then why hadn't he responded earlier?

Tsuyu-chan looked a bit taken aback by the vehemence in that statement and Hitsugaya regarded her and the rest of the class with a keen, cold eye. Midoriya swallowed, then raised a hand, reaching out towards Toushiro with a calming gesture. Toushiro eyed him for a moment, then reluctantly let some of the tension relax from his shoulders. The disappointment and irritation did not fade from his face, however.

"If you truly believe that anyone here is anything like the villains that attacked us at the training camp simply because they are willing to break the law to rescue a friend, then get out my sight. I would think the difference between those two scenarios is obvious." Hitsugaya's tone was frosty. Tsuyu-chan looked stricken, and after a moment Iida took a step forward, gritting his teeth together.

"If we don't follow the laws we'll get punished the same way a villain would, Hitsugaya-kun. We're not exempt from our own rules just because we're trying to do the right thing. Besides…none of us are fully trained. We're more likely to be a liability than anything in a fight."

Hitsugaya shot him the same frosted glare, sliding easily off the hospital bed to balance lightly on the balls of his feet

"When did your fear of consequence supplant your conscience?" the gold-skinned teenager asked condescendingly, eyes narrowing to thin slits of jade. "I agree in that none of you have the combat skill required for a mission such as this, but if you refuse this kind of mission because you are scared of the consequences, then…well, frankly I thought better of you."

Izuku bit his lower lip, chewing anxiously on it for a moment or two even as Iida swelled up with mixed rage and guilt. Then he looked up, a worried gaze alighting on his friend's tense face.

"Hitsugaya-kun…if anyone shouldn't go, it's you." He kept his voice soft, but Hitsugaya's glance flicked to him, razor-sharp with accusation and mild surprise. "I know you're not scared of any consequence you might be facing but…you're in enough trouble as it is. I don't want…I don't want it to get any worse for you."

Toushiro's emerald stare softened fractionally, just enough so that the very visible anger drained from the hard, lean muscle of his slender body. The rest of the class fell quiet, allowing Izuku to talk. He knew the white-haired teenager better than most of the others, so it made sense, but as Toushiro let out a long sigh, he couldn't help but feel somewhat anxious.

"Midoriya, I appreciate the sentiment, but as I told Aizawa-sensei, none of you can stop me," Hitsugaya rebuked, cracking his neck with a sharp pop. "I don't operate by your laws. I can't afford to."

"Hitsugaya-kun, you're facing _prison time_. I know you think that you have to do this because you think you're not human and that means you have to follow all these orders, but Bakugo isn't part of that equation and I _know_ you're frustrated but you…you don't have to interfere with human affairs even according to your own rules-"

"Midoriya."

Izuku stopped in midsentence, cutting off his rambling with a wide grimace. Hitsugaya's gaze was shadowed, the light from the window highlighting the blinding white of his hair. He let out a long sigh.

"Bakugo has been kidnapped by the League of Villains."

There was a pause, everyone waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, Todoroki nodded slowly, as if confirming the statement, and Hitsugaya swung a searching gaze around the room.

"And the League of Villains…is headed by Shigaraki Tomura?"

This sounded more like a question than a statement, and Izuku got out of bed, standing up almost by instinct, ignoring the confused nods of his classmates. That was public knowledge, that the League was directed by Shigaraki. So why did Hitsugaya sound like he was questioning it? Why…?

Oh. _Shit._

Hitsugaya had been within hearing distance when Shigaraki had accosted him in the mall (was that just barely a week ago? Crazy, how long ago it seemed). He'd been there when Izuku, like a fool, had called after the withered villain.

 _Wait, Shigaraki. What is All-For-One's ultimate goal?_

Izuku went pale as Hitsugaya turned a brightly glinting stare on him, regarding him thoughtfully for a moment. There was something terribly _knowing_ in that stare, a cold kind of brilliance that sent shivers down Izuku's spine. Then the calculating expression faded, the glint of hidden brilliance dulling, and the freckly teenager flinched, baffled by the change in atmosphere.

That look. Hitsugaya had heard him – he knew that Shigaraki wasn't the mastermind behind the League of Villains. So why hadn't he said anything?

"…So then…this Shigaraki should know something about how those poor creatures called the Nomu are created." Toushiro said smoothly, reaching for the blade bolted and locked to the foot of his bed. The sheath dissolved in a sparkle of light, allowing him to slide the blade free, then reformed with a gentle touch of his fingers. "And beyond that…he should be the one that the Hollows are allying with. If nothing else, I must go along to both protect you should any more Hollows be in the vicinity, and to ascertain the reasons behind the creation of the Nomu and the alliance with Hollows."

Izuku felt his heart stop. Alliance with the Hollows? Those people that could fight Hitsugaya when he was using his strange, supernatural powers?

 _There were more?_

Kirishima suddenly went a shade paler than his usual bronze tan, and he wasn't the only one to react. Aoyama blanched a ghost white, as did Mineta and Kouda, and Uraraka began to shake violently. Several others shrank back.

"Wait, you think that more villains like that guy you fought joined with the League of Villains?" Kirishima asked shakily. Hitsugaya nodded, eyebrows drawing low on his forehead.

"It's almost a certainty," he said grimly. "And for some god-awful reason, none of your professional heroes can wrap their insignificant brains around the idea that they _physically, mentally, and spiritually_ lack the ability to fight Hollows. You remember the air pressure at the training camp – they can do the same thing. And if you can't run faster than I can…er, faster than I can Shunpo, my high-speed movement technique, you're dead. Eaten by those creatures, to be more precise. Regardless of the risk to my person, incarceration, injury, or otherwise, I _cannot_ stand back and allow any of you to go into a battle like this without my protection."

Then Toushiro looked down at the sheathed sword in his hands. He exhaled softly, a thin wisp of white light leaking from his chest and looping around his shoulders before solidifying into a miniature dragon with glowing scarlet eyes.

"Besides…It is partially my fault that Bakugo was taken," he said quietly, stroking the little dragon's head. "I underestimated the versatility of Quirks as a whole, which I should not have done, and as a result was captured by a mere human villain. If I hadn't been caught off guard…"

It clicked. Midoriya's mouth fell open slightly, sudden compassion and understanding rushing through him.

Kacchan had slipped through Hitsugaya's fingers too.

"…I think if I scold you for blaming yourself, I'll be a hypocrite, but…it wasn't your fault that Kacchan was taken away." he laughed softly, twisting one hand gently around the wrist he'd broken. Hitsugaya glanced up at him in surprise. Then the corner of his mouth quirked up, a hint of sheepish understanding bleeding through the coldness of that green stare. Midoriya blinked in surprise at the slight amusement on Toushiro's handsome face, the slight tinge of mirth that took the edge off his frosty demeanor.

"Hypocrite indeed," Toushiro agreed, the twist of his lips unmistakably lighthearted. "I will go if Yaoyorozu-san consents to provide another tracking device. I have already searched within the area I can detect for traces of Shigaraki or Bakugo's presence – neither are close enough for me to sense them. I do have a condition, however."

Kirishima took a half-step forward, eyebrows low over his eyes, his scar stretching white. He swallowed hard. Iida's stricken anger began to tilt marginially towards curiosity, though Tsuyu was still silent and downcast, obviously hurt by Hitsugaya's prior harshness.

"What? What do we have to do?"

Hitsugaya's expression turned hard and cold, an easy aura of absolute command sliding steel into that luminous glare. The mini dragon on his shoulder let out a soft snarl.

"None of you will fight."

There was a brief pause, and then Iida's eyebrows shot up. Kirishima's red eyes widened in shock and indignation – even Todoroki looked taken aback. The rest of the class stared, nonplussed.

"What?!"

Hitsugaya held up a hand, eyes narrowing.

"None of you will fight," he repeated harshly. "You will run from any combat situation. Unlike me, your _only_ objective is to retrieve Bakugo – this isn't a situation where you should engage in battle. If you need someone to cover your asses while you snatch the walking bomb up, that will be me. I already have a track record and probably an arrest warrant by this point. Furthermore, as all of you should have guessed or seen, I alone here have ever taken another's life. None of you are prepared to kill, and I will not see any of you put in that position. If necessary, you will leave me to stall while you run with Bakugo and contact the authorities. Throw me under the bus if you have to – say I forced you all to come with me, tell the police I instigated, whatever."

Midoriya didn't realize he'd lunged forward and grabbed the collar of Hitsugaya's shirt until he'd already moved, hands trembling with anger and fear and upset. The minature dragon growled in displeasure, nipping gently at Izuku's wrist, but made no other threatening moves.

"No!" Izuku snapped, breathing harshly through his nose. "No, you are _not_ killing anyone, you are _not_ letting us throw you under the bus, and you are not going to sacrifice yourself in _any_ manner for our sake."

Toushiro stared, arms and the sheathed blade in his hand dangling limply at his side. For the first time since he'd met the white-haired teenager, Hitsugaya looked stunned, like someone had cracked him over the head with a cartoon baseball bat. He blinked owlishly. Then he sighed tiredly and brushed Izuku's hands away like bothersome gnats.

"I will tell you the same thing I told Aizawa-sensei, Midoriya," he said softly. "If you get in my way, I have authorization from my organization to use force on humans. There is literally _nothing_ that any of you or your pro-heros can do to stop me. If that means I'm a villain in your eyes, so be it – I have a duty to protect humans from Hollows at all costs, and _nothing_ will prevent me from doing that. Not even friendship."

There was a pregnant pause. Izuku could see the solemn steel in his friend's gaze, the simultaneous warning and reluctance to follow through. Hitsugaya really believed what he was saying – truly thought that the Hollows weren't human, that _he_ wasn't human, and that this mysterious militaristic group would execute him if he didn't follow their orders. He truly believed that what he was doing was right and moral. Even if it meant turning on his friends and killing men that weren't even proven to be cannibalistic monsters. And yet he was willing to take all of the blame for this expedition onto himself, to shield them from the consequences they could face.

So Midoriya glanced back at Kirishima and Todoroki, their identically unsure expressions flitting from Toushiro to him to the others in the class and back to each other in arrhythmic patterns. Izuku took a deep breath.

"We won't fight. Not unless it's in self defense and you can't help us." He decided. Iida's sharp inhale was taut with surprise. Hitsugaya regarded him carefully for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.

"You will let me take responsibility for your actions as well?"

Midoriya tried hard to hide his thoughts, to force the lie through his teeth even when he had no intention of letting Hitsugaya dig himself a deeper grave, then gave up and sighed.

"I'll let you take responsibility for my actions the same manner that you're "cooperating" with Aizawa-sensei, Hitsugaya-kun, if that suits you."

Hitsugaya blinked once in shock, then appeared to puff up slightly, and the boy turned his head away, hiding his face. His shoulders began to shake. Izuku felt a sudden pang of guilt and worry – what had he done to upset Hitsugaya? Besides blatantly point out that he was going behind Aizawa-sensei's back and not agree to let Hitsugaya take the fall for him. He'd even thought it had been a little bit funny…

Wait.

"…are you laughing, Hitsugaya-kun?"

There was a strangled, choking noise and Hitsugaya trembled again, furiously shaking his head in denial even though his cheeks were starting to turn pink. The minature dragon waved its tail, then chuckled and nodded, betraying its humanoid partner. Izuku started to smile helplessly, at once taken aback by and greatly cheered up by the laughter Hitsugaya was trying so hard to keep quiet

"You're a really bad liar, Hitsugaya-kun."

It seemed to break some kind of dam and Hitsugaya's laughter finally became audible, revealing a gasping, strained chuckle, rusty from disuse.

"You called me out on my shit…God, it's been _ages_ since someone's done that…" he wheezed. It took a minute for the fit to fade, but when it did it left a small smile in its place – one of the rare real smiles that sometimes found their way onto Toushiro's face. "You're not going to budge on that, are you?"

Midoriya shook his head firmly and Toushiro sighed, but the smile stayed put on his chiseled features. It was that same semi-shy smile, the one that looked out of place and carefree in a strange contrast. Izuku turned a bit pink as that smile stayed directed at him.

"Alright, then that's your choice," Hitsugaya capitulated easily, raising an eyebrow. "I will respect it."

Then Hitsugaya glanced at Iida, who had a shadowed look in his eye. The class president locked gazes with the white-haired teenager, his knuckles white and lower lip peeled back in a constant grimace.

"…you won't let them fight, Hitsugaya-kun?"

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, the smile curdling into a rather nasty smirk.

"You all are actually _trying_ to become heroes in this society of yours, and that's considerably more difficult to do with a criminal record. But me…" Toushiro's voice trailed off, the smirk on his lips widening. "As Aizawa-sensei said earlier, I'm being charged with third-degree murder and yet another count of illegal vigilantism. If there's any fighting to be done, I sure as hell am not going to let a bunch of inexperienced twerps with clean records like you get your hands dirty and steal all of my kills."

Iida blanched at the phrase. Everyone stared openly. Hitsugaya stood there, blinking in confusion for a moment before he groaned and rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with some exasperation.

"Mother of- It's a figure of speech," he complained. Uraraka stepped a pace forward then, her chestnut eyes fixed firmly on him.

"You did kill someone though, Hitsugaya-kun," she said quietly, subdued. "It's not quite as innocent a figure of speech anymore."

Toushiro's jaw set, a flash of anger crossing his face. Midoriya could almost see the defensive wall sliding up over his friend's mind. It sent a chill down his spine. Hitsugaya was going to defend his decision to kill instead of capture, and was getting irritated that his decision was being questioned. Did he not realize how bad this looked, or did he legitimately not care?

"I would remind you that the individual I killed was not human, and actively preys on humans to eat them." His voice wasn't quite cold, but there was a certain bite of iron to it that betrayed his annoyance at being doubted. The dragon on his shoulder nipped disapprovingly at his ear, but was ignored.

Uraraka twisted her hands beneath her chin, looking upset and concerned, her bob of reddish-brown hair bouncing as she shook her head. Her feet shifted, turning slightly inward.

"…Hitsugaya-kun…I don't mean to pry, but have you ever thought about the possibility that…that whoever is forcing you to work for them…whoever gave you the extra powers that you have…that they lied to you about those 'Hollows' being inhuman? That maybe the Hollows are just…just people like you that were given their powers and then rebelled?"

There was a long silence. Yaoyorozu took a nervous step forward, hesitantly placing herself at Uraraka's side, her dark eyes full of conflicting worry and pity and no little upset. The shorter brunette glanced up at her friend, then bit her lower lip, the pads on her fingers tapping together.

"And…And Hitsugaya-kun…for whatever it's worth, I think you were probably lied to about being turned into something inhuman as well," she said quietly. "I can't say that I ever will know or understand what you went through but…you're far from inhuman, even if you do have these abilities of yours."

Hitsugaya ran his fingers up and down the hilt of the blade in his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he laughed hollowly, the sound utterly devoid of mirth. There was almost a hint of upset in that cold laugh, Izuku thought, puzzled by the reaction.

"I've seen a Hollow form, you know," he said after a long moment, looking at the latticework pattern of the white tiles on the hospital floor. "I've seen ordinary humans writhe in agony, their bodies turning inside out until they're monsters cloaked in bone shells, their hearts ripped out, masks with sharp teeth covering their faces. And then, those very creatures which had once been human, once had a family…I've seen them turn, bite their spouses in half, devour their children and siblings in a shower of blood and shredded organs. I've seen them hunt each other down, devouring other Hollows to gain power, eating humans for fun, until their power grows enough to allow them to regain a human shape and human body, but not a human heart. And you may not have made this connection but…the person I killed at the training camp is the same as the creature I saved Todoroki and Bakugo from at that tournament, only stronger."

He looked up, death in his eyes. Midoriya felt sick to his stomach, and he knew his face had gone pale. The guy Hitsugaya had fought had been the same species as the massive monster from the Sports Festival? How was that even possible?

"I can remember the first time I killed a Hollow," Hitsugaya continued, his voice low. The little dragon growled softly, almost comfortingly. "I was seven. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold this blade of mine in my hands. I can remember one of the men – fully grown men – I was with being torn in half, his blood splattering my face, all because I'd been too slow to act."

He leveled an even stare at Uraraka, then swept over everyone else, lingering on them until they couldn't hold his gaze any longer.

"I am not crazy; or at least, not like that," he said slowly. "I have not been lied to, or brainwashed, or made to think that I am some kind of Frankenstein creature – I know full well that I seem human to you. But just because the Hollows I fight _appear_ human, it doesn't mean that they _are_ human, in much the same way that I am not human."

He narrowed his eyes, anger stealing across his face like a cold storm.

"You can call it murder if it makes you feel better about yourselves," he said, a note of condescension in his voice, the cold cruelty that only appeared when he was trying to scare people off creeping into his expression. "You can call me a cold-blooded killer if it makes you feel better. But if I didn't kill Hollows, if my people didn't kill Hollows, you would be nothing more than defenseless prey."

He sat back down on his bed, laying his blade across his knees and settled his hands lightly on the indigo sheath. The dragon faded into a wisp of white light that drifted back into his chest.

"I'll need a locating device if any of you want to accompany me." The condescension had faded from his tone, leaving only an icy, perfected authority in place. "I will be leaving to retrieve Bakugo and question Shigaraki about the Nomu this evening at sunset. If any of you are coming, meet me outside the hospital then and wheedle a tracker from Yaoyorozu."

Then he lowered his gaze to the white mattress, his body growing still again, the strange meditative glaze dulling the emerald of his eyes into flat discs of sightless color. He didn't speak again for the rest of the evening, no matter how much Iida, Kirishima or Izuku tried to provoke him.

But when night started to fall and the tracker was finally sitting innocently on Izuku's side table, he roused himself from the trance, stood up, and turned a luminous gaze on Todoroki and Izuku.

"Are you coming?" he asked quietly.

After a moment's pause, they exchanged a long look and followed Hitsugaya from the room.

* * *

 **Again, I'm alive now! I won't be able to promise the same consistency of updating as before (three stories at once is a bit more than I can chew :S) but this story is all planned out and will be continued.**

 **Tell me what you think in that box down there! And thanks for the support, you guys! 3**


	25. Train(wrecked)

**A/N: Here you all go! I hope you like it!**

* * *

Izuku squinted his eyes against the fading golden sunlight, Todoroki standing motionlessly at his side. The tracking device was clenched securely in his pale hands, not yet turned on. They were both wearing their hospital clothing still, their regular clothes packed away in some unknown box in the depths of the hospital, but Hitsugaya, after giving them and himself a once-over, had disappeared in a blur of color, muttering something about 'finding their clothes.'

Suddenly, a shock of bright red hair jogged around the corner of a nearby building, Kirishima's pop of crimson spikes unmistakable. He waved as he approached, his red eyes blinking.

"Hey Midoriya-kun, Todoroki-kun…where's Hitsugaya-kun?"

Izuku exchanged a helpless look with Shouto, then turned back to the expectant Kirishima and shrugged sheepishly.

"Er…I actually don't know…he just took off muttering about clothes- GAHHHH!"

"Oi, keep your voice down, Midoriya."

Izuku peeled his arms off his face and came a step closer to the irritable white-haired teenager, blushing very red. Todoroki and Kirishima also relaxed, flinching a little bit when Hitsugaya smirked at them.

"You know…" Todoroki began, his voice somewhat choked, "It's rather impolite to just flash into existence in the middle of our conversation and expect us not to briefly panic."

The smirk widened. Hitsugaya was clearly enjoying himself.

"Oh, I did it on purpose. Your expressions were hilarious, by the way."

Then the young non-human held out two piles of clothes, complete with shoes, one for each of the two teenagers still wearing hospital garb. Izuku reached out and took his pile with some surprise, noting that his comfortable red sneakers were on top of the pile. He stared at Hitsugaya for a full minute before the other boy caught his gaze.

"I Shunpoed to your houses and snuck in through the window," he explained briefly. "Or to what I assumed was your house, Todoroki. Do you have an older sister with mostly white hair and red patches?"

The heterochromatic boy nodded blankly, staring at his pile of clothes.

"Yeah, her name is Fuyumi," he said absently. Then he looked up in consternation. "How did you find my house?"

Toushiro shrugged, and for the first time Izuku noticed that he was wearing oddly traditional gear, including a white haori, black hakama, and black kosode. It looked almost like funeral wear – save for the straw waraji shoes, which were so dated that they were barely even considered traditional wear anymore.

"Every human – or being, rather – has a distinct personal presence unique to them, like DNA. And again, rather similarly to DNA, siblings and family members typically have similar-feeling presences. Plus, there's very faint traces of your presence on most of the things you interact with on your way back home from the U.A. so I could follow that," Hitsugaya explained nonchalantly. Izuku glanced down at the tracker in his hands with some incredulity, then held it up.

"Um, if you can do _that_ , why on earth do we even need this tracking device?"

Hitsugaya grinned, amused by the commentary. He seemed much more comfortable in the traditional wear than Izuku had ever seen him before, and though he still glanced around the hospital courtyard every five minutes as if checking the exits, his posture wasn't as tense as usual.

"Oi, even I have limitations."

"I suppose everyone does, in some regard…"

The group of four stiffened and Hitsugaya whirled around to face the street, one hand ghosting back to stroke the hilt of his sword. Yaoyorozu stood beneath a streetlamp, a slight flush on her face, upset and determination in her eyes. And just behind her, looking grim, was Iida. Kirishima reared back at the sight of them, gaping openly at Iida.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked blithely. "I thought you guys weren't keen on this whole idea."

Iida took a step forward, glaring at Hitsugaya with some measure of determination, his glasses flashing orange in the setting sun.

"While I do not doubt Hitsugaya-kun's sincerety in his intent to prevent you three from fighting, Yaoyorozu-san and I are of the opinion that he might need some extra help in actually preventing you from supporting him in a fight. And…and we are also coming along to ensure that Hitsugaya-kun is pulled away from battle if the situation permits."

The class president's voice was subdued but his stance was strong, obvious dislike for the whole affair evident in just the corded lines of his neck. Yaoyorozu also looked similarly determined, her dark eyes fixed forward. Hitsugaya regarded them for a long minute, the jade-green of his gaze narrow. Then he shrugged.

"Do as you please," he sighed. "Todoroki, Midoriya, go change and come back out here if you still want to go."

* * *

Casting Kyokko over Hyourinmaru had been incredibly convenient, and though it made his classmates rear back in surprise and some disapproval, he knew that he'd never have been able to enter the train station without the concealing kido woven over his Zanpakutou. His shihakusho and haori were already getting enough attention, and there had been one tense moment where the woman selling tickets had almost prevented them from catching the 8:20pm train.

Luckily, he could think fast on his feet, unlike his companions. After spinning a simple story about an aunt's funeral, emotional support, and the theft of his suitcase, they were on their way. Iida couldn't seem to stop frowning at him, probably because he was brazenly lying and deceiving every suspicious adult they passed with a vague smile, a forgettable greeting and an easily repeated tale. And because he'd feigned his cooperation with Aizawa's request for him to stay put, pretended to behave himself so he could do as he pleased.

Yaoyorozu looked less openly mistrustful of his intent, but she kept wringing her hands beneath her chin and biting her lip whenever their eyes met, both clear signs of her discomfort and anxiety. He tried not to feel too angry, too infuriated by the knowledge that she thought his mind was weak enough to fall prey to brainwashing, but he couldn't help the sneer that curled his upper lip back. She was the smart one – if he really was able to interact with a certain kind of particle that made him practically invulnerable to most conventional attacks, what's to say there wasn't a breed of human-like monsters able to do the same thing? And _for the love of God_ , he wasn't human. He wasn't a human just given fancy powers and told that he was an inhuman creature, he was _literally_ a different species _._ So were Hollows. How hard was it to believe that when some species of predators tried to blend in to trick prey into dropping their guard?

Todoroki and Midoriya, at least, were less forthcoming about their doubt. He could tell it was present, and the turmoil churning in Midoriya's strange reiatsu ever since he'd cut Luppi down was more than a telltale sign that the teenager was struggling. Todoroki seemed less affected – but then again, he'd been concussed at the time of Luppi's death and was naturally a quieter person. Midoriya's sunshine-personality, however, was floundering. It was painfully obvious that Izuku hadn't been prepared to see someone die – much less to see someone he was friends with be the unrepentant cause of death.

Toushiro actually felt somewhat guilty about that. His classmates, regardless of his own personal view of them, were children. Teenagers, and teenagers well on their way to adulthood, but they were children nonetheless. Exposing them to death on such an intimate, tangible level was something he had never intended to do, and would not have wished to show them. And Midoriya, optimistic-but-practical Midoriya, with a heart kind enough to accept a lonely frozen soul covered in thorny flaws – he hadn't been ready to accept that yet.

He tucked one leg under him, the other brushing against the carpeted train floor, his head leaning back against the seat. Hyourinmaru's sheathed length pressed into his spine but the concealing spell held without any issues, and he could close his eyes and breathe. He could think. He could _strategize_.

The plan he'd come up with was highly contingent on three things – one, that Shigaraki would be willing to make a trade-off. Two, that Shigaraki and Bakugo would be in the same place. Yaoyorozu had reported that Hagakure had snuck the tracking beads onto the scaled villain and the strange man with the ability to encapsulate people in small glass marbles, but there was no guarantee that the villains would only have one stronghold, or that they would have all gone to the same location. In fact, considering the biological monstrosities and tormented souls trapped inside the Nomu, it was almost a certainty that there had to be at least a facility of some kind, where the Nomu were created. However, he was approximately seventy percent sure that Bakugo and Shigaraki would be in the same stronghold, given that there was no reason for Bakugo to be abducted beyond an offer of friendship and alliance.

Of course, it was possible that Bakugo had been the one to reveal the location of the training camp to the villains and was a legitimate spy, but given that the villains had spent an entire day waiting in the woods on the outskirts of the training camp and hadn't made contact with a mole, he was reasonably sure that theory wasn't particularly watertight. There was also the curious fact that Bakugo was impossibly fixated on being a hero due to All Might's pervasive inspiration.

No, it wasn't likely that Bakugo was a spy. And he was far too bull-headed to agree to Shigaraki's proposals. So the probability of Shigaraki accepting a trade-off would likely be fairly high.

But the third exigency…

The third non-negotiable facet of his plan he was starting to doubt. He was starting to doubt it with alarming surety.

He needed his classmates' absolute trust. And nothing was more painfully obvious than the fact that, in killing Luppi, he'd lost it. He hadn't lost their goodwill yet, but it was glaringly obvious that they were more wary of his mental state. Yaoyorozu was clearly under the impression that his PTSD and allegiance to his 'organization' were drastically influencing his behavior. And Midoriya…that boy most likely wouldn't hear another word out of Hitsugaya's mouth about him fighting, if only because he was now a murder suspect. Todoroki was likely to be the same way – but Todoroki wouldn't try to talk him out of the whole affair before physically restraining him.

This wasn't like back in Seireitei, where he could simply give an order and expect it to be followed. In fact, he had the sneaking suspicion that if he tried that with these five, he'd end up hindering his own progress. They'd become wary, learned that he was trying to prevent them from getting too involved. Midoriya especially would protest and fight. That iron will of his always _did_ manage to rear its head at inconvenient times – though if Hitsugaya was being honest with himself, he did have to stifle a growing respect for the teenaged boy that was slowly growing into his own beliefs.

So for one of the few times in his tenure as a shinigami, he found himself utterly at a loss. He had no idea how to work around this particular snafu – no idea how to make the group he was traveling with to act the way he wanted them to, but at the same time, he needed them to be present, even if only to collect Bakugo. He knew that they no longer trusted him implicitly, if only because they didn't want him running headlong into a jail cell, or into another fight in which he'd once again have to slay a Hollow.

But…how on earth would he gain that trust back?

For the first time in his life, Hitsugaya found himself cursing his inexperience, cursing his own lack of skill when it came to social situations. He couldn't manipulate these kids any more than he already had with lies alone – even though he was a skilled deceptionist, he wasn't the best at weaving complex lies and evolving them. Most of his manipulation was rooted in half-truths and his own skill hiding his emotions. It made him a particularly dangerous enemy. Since everything he did was based in truth, it was hard for his pawns to discover where the lies and lies of omission were.

It seemed like years ago, that he'd learned that skill from Soifon, but it had served him well. Up until now.

He'd already said all he could in regards to his origins and motives – anything more would tread into dangerous, illegal territory, and while Central 46's power had been crippled following the double assassination by Aizen and the Vandenreich, they still had just enough influence over the Gotei 13 to wheedle Kyoraku-soutaicho into making a show of appeasing their injured pride. Wiping the memories of anyone he divulged shinigami secrets to would be a piece of cake for them to do, but losing three months of memory could incapacitate his classmates. But that was the only real truth he had left to tell them, aside from the last-ditch contingency plan he'd created with the data on his Soul Phone. And regardless, he wouldn't divulge the story of his death willingly. Not even Matsumoto knew it.

He had to think of some other way to reforge that trust, to get to agree to follow him blindly, without knowing what his plan was. But how? What was there to convince them to follow his commands, even if only for a short time?

 _"_ _Master…you must first trust them if you wish for that sentiment to be returned."_

Hitsugaya stiffened, not expecting the gentle interjection from his Zanpakutou spirit. The dragon hummed in the back of his mind, the familiar, patient wisdom blanketing the inner surface of Toushiro's soul in fluffy snow. Toushiro blinked, ignoring the anxious looks the five he was traveling with gave him at his sudden tension.

 _"…_ _what are you talking about, Hyourinmaru?"_

The ice-drake puffed a soft breath of freezing air through him, the comforting chill spreading through his chest and abdomen.

 _"_ _I think you know, little one. You have trusted them enough to tell them the half-truths you have told Aizawa-sensei. Now make them believe those truths."_

Toushiro felt his chest tighten before he quite realized what was happening, the gasp of his own breath suddenly too distant – dangerously distant. He gritted his teeth, blocking the sensations out, trying to control his breathing.

 _"_ _They don't need to know any of the shit I've been through! And I can't talk about it!"_

 _"_ _No, little one. Just as you've twisted the tale of your own origin, so you can twist the horrors you endured twenty years ago. You have just chosen not to."_

 _"_ _And you think I can talk about that now, of all times?!"_

 _"…_ _At least in this way you may use your PTSD to your advantage, hatchling. And you are likely to gain their trust if you show that you are willing to make yourself vulnerable around them. I am not suggesting anything save that it is a path you might consider."_

It wasn't that the idea was bad – Hitsugaya dealt with bad ideas on the regular back in the Tenth Division. Rather, what hurt the most was that Hyourinmaru was right. Finally speaking out about the situations that had scarred him into feeling needles and seeing fire in his nightmares and even in the waking world…that could actually convince them. It could impress the importance of his request on them, make it clear that he needed their unquestioning obedience, if only for their own safety, and for his own peace of mind.

"Hitsugaya-kun, are you okay?"

That was Todoroki, sitting next to him, and he looked down to see his hands shaking in his lap, anxiety and fear and confused pain flooding his every nerve. Hyourinmaru's gentle plan was the only option he had right now, the only viable method he could see to get to where he needed for his plan to work. And he'd gone through worse pain to protect people before.

He could handle this.

 _You can come out, Captain!_

"…no."

Honesty. It was hard to admit, so awfully hard to bite one little word out through the wall of his own paranoia and pride. What if they used this sort of weakness against him one day, turned around and threw this agony in his face the way that Aizen had every time Hinamori had been brought up? But when he felt Midoriya's hands on his shoulders, that puff of curly green hair shaking, the earnesty in that electric green soul radiating like sunshine, Hitsugaya relaxed by a fraction, some faraway echo in his heart resonating with that gentle strength. Izuku's scarred palm flexed lightly.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you don't have to come with us, you know," he said hurriedly. Toushiro looked at him, searching for…for something, for some inkling of his own broken ability to trust reflected in that sincere forest gaze. It didn't exist. Hitsugaya had to stifle a bitter chuckle, but it quickly turned into a pained wheeze as he dropped his gaze. It had been years since he'd felt this small.

"No, I…I have a plan," he said, willing his hands to still with little success. Iida adjusted his glasses and leaned in, as did Kirishima, both of whom were sitting closest to the train aisle. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki tried to give them room to listen even as they leaned in as well. Izuku nodded, the concern never leaving his face.

"That's good – you're good at those. How does it work this time?" Izuku said, his rambling chatter slowly starting to kick into high gear. Toushiro took a deep breath, then choked out a shaking laugh.

"…That's the kicker. It…it won't work if I tell you," he replied, feeling off balance, memories churning in the back of his head. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach, panic fluttering through him in little waves. "I…I need you all to trust me and…and for it to work, I need you all to do what I say without question."

Iida folded his hands over his knees, lips pressing into a thin line. He looked distinctly conflicted.

"Hitsugaya-kun, I don't think I can do that, especially given…given what happened at the training camp, with the villain you fought. And then the fact that you have even suggested we use you as a scapegoat…I don't know if I can even trust you to not hurt yourself and your own future."

The tone was firm, which Hitsugaya had been expecting, but there was also a note of apology there that was entirely surprising. Toushiro nodded weakly, the soft, apologetic noises of agreement from Kirishima and Yaoyorozu fading into the dull roar of screaming shinigami starting to pound in his head. Without thinking, he reached out, grabbing Midoriya's hands and squeezing, just trying to find something to ground himself. Izuku made a small sound of surprise, one that was quickly being lost to the cries echoing in his ears and bouncing off the inside of his skull. The train car was starting to flicker in and out, the stunned, betrayed faces of the Eleventh Division flashing into existence in front of him- a spray of blood as his arm wrenched forward, muscles burning, wounds throbbing, reiatsu scraping at the inside of his soul- foreign blood and fluids poisoning his body, burning, like acid on his nerves as he was forced to move, to kill-

 _No_. _Focus._

He blinked once, trying to breathe slow but there was _no oxygen_ , his lungs cauterized in his chest, heart charred on one side, body failing- Giselle's giggle in the background, cruel and mocking-

 _Focus. Block it out. She's gone, she can't make you hurt anyone. Focus. Breathe. Who's there?_

Izuku, Shouto, Momo, Eijirou, Tenya. Five people. He needed them to trust him.

 _Trust inspires trust._

"…Midoriya, talk-"

 _The ones turned before death have better conditioned cells, and their personality is suppressed. It's a win-win!_

There was blood on his teeth, in his mouth- the concrete ripped his melted skin away in chunks as he was dragged- No – that's carpet, that's glass, the metal of a train- pain shooting like fire up from the base of his spine, pinned down, helpless- no, that's Izuku, holding him, gently- sharp nails digging into his hips, rhythmic agony splitting his insides apart- gentle hands holding his, ice on his forehead, thumb caressing his cheek with kind arrhythmia- _Come on, focus-_

"…Hitsugaya-kun, can you hear me?"

It was faint, cutting through the static of his own broken cries. Hitsugaya clung to it, gasping for breath he didn't have- no, he could breathe, he could see, he was – well, not fine, but at least not dying, not helpless to prevent his own destruction. He needed more than a voice-

"…heart…beat?"

The ground shifted, Madarame now bleeding beneath him, the air soft like cotton on his cheek and ear, a soft hand on his face, a hand with ice on his brow.

 _Come on, almost there._

The soft, rhythmic pulse of a human heart, slow and steady. It flickered and was hard to hear, the Eleventh Division dying at his jerking, unwilling hands, but it was there. He listened, trying to see steel and rows of seats instead of dying men, and slowly everything started to clear, his own shaking hands caught by Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. Todoroki had one palm flat over his forehead, frost clinging to the pale fingertips. Toushiro let out a shuddering breath as the flashback receded, his heart fluttering in his ribcage like a trapped bird. He'd fallen from his seat onto the floor, or been pulled down, and he sat curled in Izuku's lap, his head cradled gently to the other teenager's chest.

Kirishima was kneeling on the floor as well, holding his ankles firmly – had he been thrashing, been fighting against the enemies only he could see? – but Iida was standing, speaking hurriedly to a worried conductor. The wild gesticulations were gone, Iida's obvious concern overtaking his overzealous nature. Toushiro waited until the conductor hurried off before he blinked and shifted, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that Izuku was cuddling him.

"I'm okay…" he choked out, catching their attention. "I'm okay."

Kirishima let him go first, and he stayed limp, trying to regain himself. Izuku kept holding him, one muscular arm around his waist, one cradling the side of his cheek. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki let go gently, dropping his hands into his lap, but Izuku didn't relinquish his hold. Gratitude rose up in his chest, unbidden, and shame suddenly bit deep into his mind, shame at the fact that Izuku's grip had become something to ground him in reality.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shaken but no longer shaking. "I…I want you all to trust me so…so I was trying to make myself trust you all first but the words don't…won't come…"

Kirishima leveled a surprised look his way, red eyes turning very round. Hitsugaya choked hard on his words, fighting his tongue and thickening pride with every ounce of logic he could throw at himself. Izuku wouldn't betray him – he hadn't yet, and Toushiro knew where he lived. Kirishima was friends with the rudest kid in the class and still managed to smile all the time and be nice to everyone. Yaoyorozu had gone out of her way to replace his entire wardrobe out of concern. Todoroki was constantly questioning him _respectfully_ , which was unusual in itself, and had stood up to his own father to help Toushiro. And Iida had seen him in Hosu and hadn't said anything, caught between friendship and the law.

If he started talking, opened up to them to deepen their trust, he knew logically that it wasn't very likely that any of these teenagers would betray his trust. None of them had that kind of deceptive, cruel streak which could validate his paranoia. But every fiber of his soul screamed to retreat, to back away, to slap off Izuku's protective grip on his torso and face.

"…Um, what do you mean that you were trying to make us trust you by trusting us first?" Kirishima asked quietly, his sharp teeth pricking his lower lip. Iida stood perfectly still, staring in surprise, his deep ocean stare shrinking to pinpricks of beaded blue as he realized what Hitsugaya was doing. Izuku sucked in a sharp breath next to his ear but stayed quiet, that human heart still beating strong and steady in a firm chest. Toushiro felt the chill of trembling panic quiver down his spine again as he brushed over those memories.

"…I wanted…I wanted to tell you why I'm like this," he forced out, cutting through his paranoia with sheer willpower. Instantly the hyperalert fear that kept him alive in battle flooded his veins, his pulse speeding up violently, and he had to struggle to control his breathing. "Why I'm willing to do things you won't and shouldn't do. I need you all to trust me for this plan to work. Otherwise…otherwise it's sunk. But I can't expect trust from you if I won't return it."

Izuku's grip on his waist tightened incrementally, the hand on his cheek shifting to cradle the back of his head, pale fingers weaving hesitantly into his fluffy white hair. The teenager's chest rose and fell beneath Hitsugaya's ear as he took a deep breath.

"You don't have to say anything, Hitsugaya-kun," Izuku said firmly, and though Toushiro couldn't see his face he was more than aware of the iron glint probably present in those large green eyes. Slowly, Hitsugaya raised his gaze, passing over Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, and Kirishima before landing on Iida. He shook his head, acknowledging Izuku's statement for what it was.

"I know…but I need you to understand me. To trust me. And trust is a two way street," Toushiro replied, gritting his teeth, mind racing against the illogical panic pumping through his veins. He could feel himself starting to shake again, adrenaline like fire in his blood, the intentional recall of the moment of his turning wreaking havoc on his body's fight-or-flight response.

Iida stared, then bit his lower lip.

"It's…it's that important that we trust you blindly?"

Toushiro nodded, letting out a forced breath, fists starting to tighten, his knuckles starting to whiten.

"I need you to unreservedly agree to this plan without knowing what it is and agree to follow my every instruction without question," he said. "For your own safety, and for mine and Bakugo's. I need you all to know wholeheartedly that I would _never_ do anything to hurt you. _Never_. Not after…after…"

The words stuck in his throat, lodging crossways like an obnoxious fishbone. He snarled inwardly.

 _I am not a freaking coward, scared of shadows. Deep breaths, relax your shoulders, and take the plunge._

"…several years ago, when I was about ten, my people and I were attacked by another race of non-humans called the Quincy who declared war on us and the Hollows," he began. Almost immediately he felt himself start to calm down, the initial attack by the Quincy an easy topic compared to his initial encounter with Giselle. Everything cleared, and he shifted slightly away from Izuku, not shaking the other teenager off but creating just enough distance that he felt somewhat independent. The five with him made small sounds of shock, obviously not expecting that.

"The Quincy caught us by surprise – infiltrating our headquarters and slaughtering hundreds before we had the chance to respond. The leaders of my society were targeted, elite Quincy warriors called Sternritter sent to deal with our thirteen captains and their subordinates. And somehow, these Quincy had developed the technology to steal our powers. I…I lost most of my ice and storm abilities that way. And that separation…there's nothing like it for a human. I'd prefer to lose an arm or even to lose the ability to walk over going through that again."

He could still remember the sudden void that opened in his heart, the lifeless _nothing_ suddenly suffusing him like a disease spreading across a lush plain, killing everything in sight. Losing Hyourinmaru had been nauseating. But that wasn't what he was focusing on. Not now.

"But with my power sealed or stolen…I was walking helpless against any Sternritter, and I…I encountered one who had managed to offset our strongest man, the Captain-Commander. I…He's why I can't stand fire. Midoriya, the burn scars on my chest…those are from him. I managed to drive him off and defeat one of his allies after a scientist working on our side discovered how to shatter the technology that stole our powers, but I collapsed shortly after that."

He'd glossed over all of the fight with Bazz-B, mostly because he didn't think he could handle talking about two of his most vivid memories in the same moment. But now it was time to talk about his turning, the moment he had felt through the blur of pain and injury his control over his own body evaporate in flame. He bit his tongue – tasted blood.

"A Sternritter named Giselle Gewelle found me," He knew his hands were shaking, knew his voice was trembling, but he forced himself to keep going, to keep talking even though he was a disintegrating mess in Izuku's grip. "I…I don't remember much. Just…just the taste of her blood in my mouth and…and feeling like my body was being torn apart from the inside. Then…I must have blacked out, and I don't know for how long. But when I came to- _Fuck_."

Without thinking he lunged forward, Giselle's smile leering at him from where Todoroki had been a moment prior. Izuku caught him, pinning his arms to his sides, and Toushiro grunted, ducking his head and closing his eyes against the leering giggle of the Quincy who had turned him into a pretty, fragile doll.

"I can't stop _seeing_ her," he snarled, not particularly surprised to realize that he was choking back tears. "When I came to I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything except follow her. I was a prisoner in my own body, helpless to obey her every whim. And she _preened_ , dressed me up in an enemy uniform, played with my hair like I was some life-size china doll. That was her ability. She bled on people, forced them to drink her blood or worse…and they became her zombies. I was one of them. Then…then she…she ordered me to follow her into battle."

 _You can come out, Captain!~_

"I…I…she…" he couldn't get the words out around his swollen tongue, couldn't fight through the shaking terror grasping hold of his mind. He was starting the hear the screams of the Eleventh Division grunts he'd cut down, Ayasagewa's cry of rage as he gored Madarame through the spine-

"Shh, Hitsugaya-kun, you are safe here. That Giselle individual cannot hurt you any longer."

He could still hear Iida's hurried voice, hear Izuku's heartbeat even through the murk of dying shinigami and his own dragging limbs, the poison in his blood burning. He kept his eyes closed.

"She…made me slaughter over sixty of my own people before I was stopped. And I was conscious for all of it, watching from inside my own frozen corpse, trapped screaming in my own mind as I cut my friends and allies down…and when I finally started to regain feeling, finally started to be able to respond, to talk…it was like nothing had meaning. Like I had lost of sense of up and down, of what my oaths meant, of what morals were. I just…I _couldn't care_ , and I have never felt that frightened of myself before."

There was a sudden silence from his friends, a horrified pause, and Izuku's grip around his waist and shoulders suddenly tightened, pulling him in close. Toushiro gasped for air, for air not in his burning lungs, wheezing weakly, clawing at the stone and rubble of the broken buildings around him- no, concentrate, listen for Izuku's heartbeat- the scent of iron tang and cold breath of diamond dust spiking through- no, that was smoky cedarwood, that was steel, the smell of Izuku's soap and train seats.

"I…will _never_ , willingly or otherwise, hurt my friends or innocent people again." he whispered into Izuku's shirt, not sure if the other boy could hear above the cacophony of humans screams and crumbling stone. "I _can't_. Never again. So please…please trust me and my plan. Trust that I will not do _anything_ unless it's absolutely necessary."

Finally, another sound broke through the deafening screams, a shaky sigh of defeat. Iida's voice.

"…I never thought even for a moment that you would willingly harm your friends, Hitsugaya-kun. Nor that you would harm an innocent. None of us…nobody in Class 1-A could think that of you."

The echoes of the Eleventh Division cries were fading, and with a grinding jaw Hitsugaya cracked his eyes open, determined to see through the haze of his past. It wasn't there. All he saw was Iida and Kirishima, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki, and the broad shoulder of the boy he was leaning on again, Izuku's chin resting on his head, the other boy's lower lip trembling from the feel of it. He gazed at Iida, searching the face behind the glinting lenses.

"Then please…promise me that you'll do as I say, no matter what happens."

Kirishima glanced at Iida, looking for any hint of the class representative's intentions. Yaoyorozu, for her part, turned to Todoroki, lightly biting her lower lip. Everyone seemed to be waiting on bated breath. And then Izuku's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"…Only if you promise that this plan of yours won't endanger you in any way," Izuku said fiercely. Suddenly Hitsugaya found himself pinned against the seat he'd been sitting in previously, both of Izuku's hands pinching his lean shoulders, the teenager who had been so carefully holding him just a few minutes prior glaring at him with pure iron in that sunshine stare. "Promise us that you won't kill anyone again and that you won't be throwing yourself in jail. Promise that and I'll do as you ask, no questions."

Toushiro's breath caught and he bit his tongue, not expecting that comeback. Iida and the others glanced at Izuku with measure of acceptance, each of them in turn slowly voicing their own agreement with those conditions. Suddenly the blade on his back felt heavy in a way that it never had before.

But he sighed, even as his heart shattered into fragments of ice in his chest.

 _If you get in my way, I can hurt you._

Nobody said the hurt had to be physical.

"I promise."

* * *

 **And they're off to rescue the walking bomb!**


	26. Economics of Villainy

**A/N: Hello! I'm back! With *MORE* terrible, awful, no-good, very-bad ideas from one chibi shinigami captain.**

 **Also! I have now published my first 'E' rated story on A03 - a Bleach IchiHitsu fic that will contain non-graphic lemons. Please check it out if you're interested!** **And if there are any Bleach fans looking to join a great Bleach Discord server, PM me and I can see if I can't send you an invite link. Adults - or those comfortable with very adult topics - only, please!**

* * *

"Yaoyorozu, the trackers? Surviving?"

The dark-haired girl bobbed her head absently, looking at the two devices in her hand.

"They're all working. And the two on the villains…Well, we're definitely in the Kamino Ward, but they're somewhere to the north of us. But I think we should disguise ourselves. A group of high-schoolers sticks out too much here."

Toushiro glanced around at the crowd of adults around them, many of them starting to stare at his shihakusho and haori with some confusion. He shot a look at Yaoyorozu, who was looking longingly at a brightly-lit store a short distance away. He had to stifle a growl of revulsion at the sight of the wigs in the window, but he understood what she was saying.

"Alright, lead on."

Yaoyorozu's whole face lit up, a bright smile popping onto her round face, and she took off towards the store, seizing his hand in hers as she ran. He squalled in surprise, stumbling after her, and he heard Kirishima snicker behind him. They'd all been much more at ease around him after he'd promised not to kill anyone or to put himself in danger in any way. He tried not to dwell on it.

Thirty minutes later, everyone was dressed in costumes and had either sunglasses or a wig to obscure part of their faces. Well, almost everyone. Hitsugaya had cleverly dodged his way into one of the changing rooms at the back of the store, then quickly expanded the bakudo spell over his Hyourinmaru until his entire body was cloaked in the concealing spell. Then he'd left the stall and found Midoriya, weaving through racks of satin and polyester clothing until he was close enough to tug on the green-haired boy's sleeve.

Izuku had been waiting with the rest of the group under a streetlamp at that point, all of them suitably disguised, but he'd jumped almost a mile when he'd heard Hitsugaya's soft voice whispering in his ear.

"I'm invisible – right behind you."

Izuku tried not to whirl around, his freckled face pale across the bridge of his upturned nose, then blushed ferociously as Hitsugaya didn't let go of his sleeve, still tugging every few seconds. Gradually, he turned back to look in the direction Hitsugaya was, his owlish eyes gazing straight through Hitsugaya's nose. Tenya and Eijirou gave him funny looks. Izuku blushed again, looking embarrassed to be caught so taken aback.

"Uh…he's done something to make himself invisible."

The low undertone carried easily in the small group, and though Yaoyorozu's dark eyes lit up at the thought the electromagnetic force being subverted, nothing else was said. Hitsugaya pulled on Izuku's sleeve again.

"Follow me. Bakugo, the Nomu, and Shigaraki are all in my range now – but from what I can tell, the Nomu- shit, there's _seventeen_ of them. They're just over thirty minutes from the hideout that Shigaraki and Bakugo are at. My guess is that this is the hideout they'll retreat to in case of an attack."

Yaoyorozu's eyes widened behind the lenses of her sunglasses, and she hesitantly took a step forward, chewing on her lower lip.

"…can…can you sense any of the Hollow-villains you mentioned?" she asked, her voice soft so as to not attract attention. Kirishima and Iida exchanged long looks, hints of hesitancy slumping Iida's shoulders and pulling the scar above Kirishima's eye white with tension. Hitsugaya closed his eyes and sighed.

He hadn't wanted to mention the Hollows again, lest these five remember that he would have to kill them. But it was, he supposed, an unavoidable question.

"Two for certain, and neither are with Shigaraki at the moment," he replied levelly. "But the stronger, more evolved that the Hollow is, the more human it looks and the better it can hide its presence from me. I don't believe it's likely that any Hollows allied with or in communication with the League of Villains are aware of my presence here, but if they are, then there could be more hidden."

He kept a hold on Izuku's sleeve and started walking, mind churning with building guilt and tension. The green-haired teenager followed behind, trying to look like he knew where he was going, and the other four followed Izuku through the lamplit streets, weaving through crowds of adults. Then they passed by a large outdoor TV-screen, which a large crowd of people was gathered around. Hitsugaya glanced up at it with vague curiosity as Izuku and the others stopped dead, then lightly bounded into the air to get a better view of the screen.

A rock-like lump of guilt dropped into the pit of his stomach with a nauseating splish.

Aizawa, Kan and Nedzu were on screen, wearing suits and sitting with hands folded on one side of a long table, microphones in front of them. Aizawa was even clean-shaven for once in his life, his unruly dark waves slicked back. He was currently speaking, apologizing for allowing the incident at the training camp to occur.

 _~"-humbly apologize for our shortcomings."~_

Then some obnoxiously middle-aged reporter stood up, questioning the U.A.'s decisions on how to increase the security at the school, forcing the U.A. to lay out a firm, if somewhat nebulous statement concerning the measures that the school had taken. Almost immediately, the mood of the large crowd watching the TV screen appeared to drop, and angry mutterings rippled through the crowd. Hitsugaya felt a pulse of tension shiver down his spine, and almost without realizing what was happening he felt anger flood through him.

Without warning, the humans below him started to shiver, twitching away from where he was standing, invisible above them. Slightly ahead of them, a baby started wailing, and the grown adults' muttering shifted from one of anger and derision to one of fear. And that was when Hitsugaya realized, staring at his hands under the layer of concealing Kido.

It was an innate ability of all things dead – the ability to project the aura of bone-chilling death regardless of their strength. But as a shinigami, he most often muted that effect in order to hide himself from the living and to reassure the dead. However, that aura of wrongness never truly left, though it could be covered by layers and layers of willpower, kido, and practice. It was a feeling entirely separate from killing intent, which produced absolute, crushing terror. No – instead, the aura of death brough with it the sadistic, lingering fear of half-formed shapes in the night, the pallor of foreboding and inescapable darkness. It was an aura of inevitable, quiet terror, with none of the heart-pounding immediacy of killing intent.

It was this aura, this vague hint of his power, that he'd partially loosed on all the hapless humans in the immediate area. Yet he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but vindictive pleasure at the chilling, creeping fear it was spreading through the humans. The few dogs in the vicinity were whining, hiding behind their owners and staring pitifully at him with their tails tucked between their hind legs. It wasn't until Midoriya made a slight whimper beneath him that he reined that instinctual aura in, hiding his inhumanity from the living.

The TV rattled on, its audience considerably more sober than just moments before.

 _~"-no indications of mental trauma caused by this attack at the moment."~_ Nedzu's expression was remarkably calm, though his whiskers twitched every time Aizawa moved. The reporter who had just asked the latest question pressed on, moving on to very pointedly depict Bakugo as a villain. Aizawa almost immediately shot him down, a vicious glare seething in those dark eyes. And then the game changed.

 _~"While we are speaking of the students, I think it necessary to point out that one of your students – who I cannot name due to privacy laws surrounding minors suspected of committing crimes – studying hero coursework actually is now facing criminal charges as a result of this incident, charges which include third-degree murder,"~_ a narrow-faced blonde journalist was next, thin lips flat with disdain. ~ _"It seems imprudent to leave a criminal and killer in a class of children. What steps will the U.A. take concerning this particular villain?"~_

Hitsugaya couldn't stop the bitter sneer that split his face, and he turned to drop from the sky and land next to Midoriya. But before he could pull on the boy's sleeve and lead the group away, Aizawa spoke again.

 _~"The student in question is not a villain, nor will you ever again refer to him as such."~_ Aizawa's voice was absolutely deadly. ~ _"If anything, he is misguided, but none of his actions suggest that he is willing to resort to crime to further his own goals. Every mark on his track record was made in defense of himself and others. Furthermore, the boy you speak of suffers from severe PTSD, and we at the U.A. have reason to believe that this trauma was intentionally caused by an individual or group. Criminal charges or not, this child has given us no reason to warrant harsh treatment, and given that he singlehandedly defeated one of the villains while successfully preventing the injury of more than thirty of his classmates – while suffering from PTSD – I think he should rather be provided with the care he needs to heal from his past experiences."~_

And just like that, the air vanished without a trace, leaving Hitsugaya gaping from his place standing on the sky. Clenching pain shot through his chest, the dark anger in Aizawa's stare so terribly ferocious. None of that had been faked. Or scripted. It had all been real and raw. And Aizawa, the man he had threatened to hurt, the teacher that ignored his tears when he needed to just _scream_ at nothing, had defended him on live television.

Hitsugaya hadn't realized that guilt could ever be physically painful before this moment, but his stomach lurched and churned in his abdomen, almost as if reprimanding him for his past actions. How pleasant. He tried to stifle a bitter smile, but the grimace came anyway, settling on his face like sticky rice on a child's cheek. With a swift movement he took Izuku's sleeve, tugging lightly on it, and if Midoriya and the others noticed that he was moving slightly faster than they had been previously, then they didn't comment on it.

Halfway between the two hideouts that Hitsugaya had sensed earlier, he stopped. The streets were starting to become more and more devoid of life, and the buildings were starting to crumble slightly as they walked into a rougher part of town. Izuku walked into his back and bounced off with a soft 'oof,' but luckily the others stopped in time.

"Listen, and listen well," he said softly, his breath a low murmur. The others craned their heads toward him, pretending to crowd around Todoroki's phone while Hitsugaya spoke. "From this moment forward, no matter what I say, how I say it, or why I'm saying it, _do exactly as I tell you to_ , even if it sounds crazy _._ Do you all understand?"

It took a long minute and some significant looks for his classmates to hesitantly nod, one at a time, as if they were having a discussion about something on Todoroki's phone. Hitsugaya breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, good. We're going to the place where Shigaraki and Bakugo are first," he murmured. "Yaoyorozu, as soon as you can, find a highly ranked hero to give the locators to. Point out which one goes with which person. But stick with the group until then."

She nodded hesitantly, somewhat mystified. Hitsugaya turned to Iida, who was looking at the phone with laser-focused interest despite the screen being entirely blank.

"Iida. I'm counting on you to do most of the enforcing. Be the voice of reason. If any of them aren't doing what I say because they're thrown off by how I'm saying it, you're the one to drag them off."

Iida squinted at a space slightly to the left of the phone screen and nodded, his blue eyes slightly unfocused. He wasn't wearing his glasses, so his vision was limited at the moment. It was probably for the best.

"Kirishima. When we get him, do everything you can to convince Bakugo to do as I say as well. If that means bodily carrying him off, that means bodily carrying him off."

The redhead's expression melted, and a sheepish grimace spread across his toothy mouth. He shook himself, probably already anticipating Bakugo's displeasure.

"Todoroki, Midoriya, I don't have anything specific yet for you two. So…just stay alert. And stay thinking. This…isn't going to be easy. And for all of you – the second you find a pro-hero, tell them _everything_. The Hollows, my plan, what I made you promise me… _everything_."

Todoroki put his phone away, the huddle of teenagers breaking apart, and breathed out a puff of slight mist. He looked a touch surprised by that, as did the others. Then Midoriya's face tightened, and he looked searchingly at the empty place where Hitsugaya was supposed to be standing.

"…are you okay, Hitsugaya-kun?"

His voice was soft, soft enough to go unheard by the others, but Hitsugaya's sharp shinigami ears caught the gentle concern with ease. An aching stillness echoed momentarily in the void of his chest and for one second he felt utterly hollow. Then the young captain shook himself, burying his conscience in layers of cold winter.

 _Even though the snow hides it, every true glacier has cracks that lead through the miles of ice. You're not fooling anyone._

 _Especially not yourself._

"…I'll be fine."

* * *

They kept walking, or swaggering unconvincingly along, in Midoriya's case, until they reached a strangely lifeless block where there were no civilians in sight. Hitsugaya's gaze flicked under the veil of his kido, lightly biting his lip. He was pretty sure the kido he was preparing would work the way he wanted it to, but he'd have to be careful when he cast it or risk blowing the entire plan to smithereens.

…Well, he'd worked under more serious constraints before.

He placed a hand on Izuku's chest, making the teenager stop dead. Shigaraki's building was just down the street, an abandoned-looking square concrete block with a decrepit sign for a bar and small windows.

"Stay here a moment."

Without waiting for a response, he Shunpoed away, flitting lightly over the heads of each of the scattered heroes and policemen watching the building from the shadows, drawing the long net of invisible kido behind him until he'd enveloped each of the pros and their accomplices in woven strands of his ice-cold power. He had to force himself to ignore that he was technically using shinigami powers agains the humans – it was a necessary evil to get the job done. Then he carefully placed a barrier around Shigaraki's building, a weak one that would just barely be able to keep the humans out without attracting the attention of the two Arrancar hovering around the other hideout.

Then he paused, bit his lip, and Shunpoed quickly away to do the same to the other hideout, placing a more powerful barrier there in order to keep the Arrancar inside the concrete structure. He hid the scattering of heroes gathered cautiously around this one in thin kido as well. Then he Shunpoed back, the whole trip taking him barely a moment.

Midoriya and the others were still standing where he'd left them, blinking a bit nervously around at their surroundings, which were as quiet as the grave. He landed silently on the sidewalk, his feet making no noise on the ground. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he shattered the concealing kido making him invisible. Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Midoriya squawked in surprise, and Iida flailed backward. Even Todoroki took a calm step back with a soft 'oh' of shock.

Hitsugaya leveled them all with a solemn stare.

"Remember. Whatever I say, no matter what," he warned. Then he jerked his head toward the building. "Follow me, but stay on the sidewalk. Don't leave it unless you can't see me, for some reason."

The tension in the air was palpable, but as Hitsugaya led the way down the street, his footsteps lighter than air and completely silent, another kind of aura fell over them. Hitsugaya glanced back at the five following him, eyes glinting in the dim streetlights, and watched as Kirishima flinched in surprise, sweat dotting his brow. Yaoyorozu's arms were covered in goosebumps – and she wasn't the only one with her hair standing on end. He knew why, of course.

"Keep your heads, all of you," he said over his shoulder, coming to a stop in front of Shigaraki's building, guiding his friends effortlessly through the barrier he'd cast even as the policemen and pro-heroes tried to break it. His voice was quiet. Izuku glanced at him, lips white and pale, hands trembling.

"…don't you feel that? It happened earlier too." the boy whispered back. "It's like…like we're in a real-life horror movie, like Paranormal Activity, and something is haunting us..."

Hitsugaya just looked at Izuku for a long moment, staying silent, gaze cold. And slowly, dawning comprehension slid over Midoriya's face.

"…you don't feel it?"

Hitsugaya laughed a little bit, the sound soft and dangerous. Of course, they wouldn't expect this.

"I am not often scared of myself," he said, his voice as soft as a ghostly breeze. "I dampen it usually, but for this I thought it would be easier to spook the League a bit."

That sparked the understanding in the others' faces, and they gasped breathlessly. Yaoyorozu swallowed hard.

"Hitsugaya-kun…why? I-I feel…my heart's pounding, like I'm being hunted."

Toushiro smiled, and the smile had no mirth in it. That was something he could work with. The smart ones always did manage to half-rationalize things for him.

"If Hollows can prey on humans, what says I can't do the same?" he asked, allowing that predatory grin to stretch his cheeks. The flinch from all of them was almost in sync, and he had to fight suppress a sudden urge to laugh. "Don't worry – my people have no interest in that, and as I told you earlier – I will never again hurt my friends. Only Hollows hunger for human flesh. But…do you understand what I'm trying to point out?"

Iida adjusted his glasses with a trembling finger, but Toushiro had to give the teenager credit for meeting his gaze.

"…You are a predator. Whatever you are, you are a predator higher on the food chain than humans…and that's what this…this _terror_ is. That is what you're trying to say."

Hitsugaya nodded once, and let the chilling smile fade. The group with him relaxed marginally, now understanding the fear they were feeling better, though they still seemed a tad skeptical of his non-human status, the stubborn children. And Toushiro shrugged mentally. Technically, he hadn't been lying. Death was the final predator for all species, after all. He held out a hand to his friends.

"Wait here."

They did, watching quietly as Hitsugaya strode up to the door with the strange grill tacked over the window set in it. And Toushiro took a deep breath.

Then he raised his hand and knocked. Hard. The sound rattled the rusty drainpipe bolted to the side of the stone building, and Kirishima suddenly yelled, eyes widening in horror.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!"

He made to step forward, and Hitsugaya tossed a careless glance over his shoulder. He kept his face blank, kept the bone-chilling aura of death saturating his skin. Anything to make the ruse believable. Anything to keep them safe, out of harm's way, even if they hated him later.

"Iida. Keep them quiet."

Suddenly, the group realized. Iida, very, very shakily took Kirishima's wrist and pulled him back onto the concrete. They didn't move again, and true to his word, Iida hesitantly calmed his friends. There was a long silence.

After a long moment where nothing happened, however, Hitsugaya lost patience. He reached back, drew his blade, and let out a long, irritated sigh as he stabbed Hyourinmaru into the concrete by his foot.

"You let me go for a reason," he called, letting malice drip into his tone, his voice beginning to split. Carefully, he calmed himself, reined in the leaking wisps of reiatsu making his skin glow. Too much and he'd actually look like a ghost, and he couldn't quite afford for the humans to figure out that he was dead yet. "I'm not an idiot. Come on out."

Again, silence met his plea. But then the door creaked open with a painful squeal and Toushiro backpedaled, snarling and snatching his blade as a villain with a misting face took a stance in the doorway.

"You're the boy that Mr. Compress let go," the villain said after a brief moment in which nobody moved, "the strange one studying at the U.A. that doesn't want to be a hero."

Hitsugaya stared, eyes wide. This was Kurogiri. The villain that might be able to send him home, if only All-For-One hadn't reared his ugly, soul-mutiliating head and the Arrancar hadn't started appearing in this universe. What perfect luck.

"Why are you here, little one? I don't particularly enjoy tormenting children, but it's not as if I can let you go back to your school when you've found this place so easily."

Hitsugaya sucked in a sharp breath, apologized silently to the five behind him, and took the plunge.

"I want to trade. Switch me with Bakugo."

* * *

"I want to trade. Switch me with Bakugo."

It was like the entire world went silent except for those words. Midoriya found himself gasping for air, suddenly winded, and not because of the choking fear pumping in his blood at the moment. Iida seized the back of his shirt as he lunged forward, shaking but still following Hitsugaya's commands.

"Hitsugaya-kun, what are you _saying_?!" he shrieked. Kurogiri looked at him with some boredom.

"You brought friends?"

Hitsugaya shrugged. He seemed…more at ease, after that one little sentence. As if he'd jumped off a bridge and now the worst was over and done with. Midoriya bit his tongue, trying not to scream at his friend for _putting himself in harm's way_. Just as he'd promised NOT to do.

"Bakugo won't agree to side with you the way you want him to – and yes, that was an obvious goal the second you abducted him. Those five are to ensure he goes home successfully – you've probably realized his skull is thicker than a Neanderthal's by now." Toushiro said, his voice dispassionate, as if he was merely discussing the weather. Then the air thickened, foreboding and dark, spectral mirth soaking the air until every breath was a wheeze of fear. Hitsugaya smiled a vampiric smile even as Kurogiri began to shake. Killing intent saturated the atmosphere, mixing with the chilling paranormal terror and forming something paralyzing. And for a split, irreconcilable moment, Izuku found himself thinking that, just maybe, Hitsugaya wasn't human after all.

"But me…now, I might actually be persuadable."

And suddenly, everything clicked. Midoriya went numb in Iida's grasp even as his friends stiffened in shock, watching Toushiro's face and the twitch in his hands. Even the chilling smile on that golden face.

 _"_ _I…will never, willingly or otherwise, hurt my friends or innocent people again."_

If it hadn't been for that, for the honesty he'd seen when Hitsugaya had said that – it would have convinced him. It would have completely convinced him, without a shadow of a doubt. But he knew better now. And he knew something that the League of Villains didn't. Hitsugaya tried to protect people by pushing them away. By forcing them away. And if he hadn't seen fit to tell Izuku and the others his plan earlier, then that meant he was expecting them to become enraged. To call him a traitor. To break down and cry. To, essentially, make the betrayal real enough to sell to the League.

And if that was the case…

Then Toushiro was lying though his teeth. And with his speed, he could actually escape the League. Maybe not All-For-One. But Shigaraki? No problem whatsoever.

Todoroki surged forward then, fury in his dichromatic eyes, the pain of betrayal in every line of his face, but before Iida could stop him, Midoriya stretched a hand out and caught Todoroki's arm, trying force anger to his face.

"I fucking _trusted_ you, Toushiro!"

Out of character. But the villains wouldn't know that he'd never called Hitsugaya by anything but his surname – the villains wouldn't know how the swearword almost caught in his throat, or that the tears in his eyes were of fear for his friend's safety rather than tears of rage.

However, his friends would catch it. Immediately. And as Todoroki stiffened under his hand, he knew that the taller boy had caught the slip. He wasn't the only one either. Hitsugaya's emerald gaze locked onto his freckled face. The killing intent faded. So did the cloying atmosphere of fear. Then Toushiro laughed, and though the sound was devoid of emotion, the amusement on Hitsugaya's face was genuine.

"And the fact that I lied to Aizawa-sensei didn't clue you in? Rescuing Bakugo is my last favor to you, Izuku. Don't expect anything more from me. And if you know what's good for you, stay on that sidewalk where I can see you."

He'd gotten the message. He'd said 'Izuku' instead of 'Midoriya'. Izuku could almost feel the sigh of relief building in his lungs.

Kurogiri regarded Toushiro for a long moment, watching this exchange. Then he shifted his position, leaning somewhat against the doorframe. His yellow eyes narrowed to thin slits of gold in the black murk.

"I see that Mr. Compress's assessment of you was correct. Please, come in, and we can negotiate further."

Hitsugaya bounced a pace closer, but stopped. His long sword glinted, still threateningly unsheathed.

"Eh, do you mind particularly if _you_ come out _here_? I did kill Antenor, after all – I don't want to be in there alone if anyone is holding a grudge. Oh, and as a goodwill gesture, the girl behind me stuck trackers on two of you. It's how we found this place."

Kurogiri chuckled softly at that, obviously amused by the request and Yaoyorozu cried out in despair behind Hitsugaya, sinking to her knees on the pavement.

"I will return in a moment, then. Thank you for the information."

Kurogiri disappeared inside the building, and Hitsugaya took the opportunity to glance back at Izuku and the others, expression a smirk. Then he split his lips, revealing a sneer of teeth, and touched the corner of his mouth with a quick wink. Izuku felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest at the gentle reminder.

 _Hitsugaya had stuck a tracker to one of his back teeth._

When the villains left, Hitsugaya would be leading them straight to another hideout.

Shigaraki came out of the building a few minutes later, accompanied by a pouting Toga Himiko, who was rolling a cart with a static-covered TV on it, and an entirely unamused man with scars all over his face and arms. Shigaraki stopped two paces outside the door, twitching. There was a single, singed hand attached to his face. A bloodshot red eye peered out from behind two of the fingers.

"So you want to trade? Yourself for Bakugo?"

Hitsugaya smiled that eerie, cruel smile of his again, and suddenly the air pressure increased, until each breath felt like inhaling water and movement was sluggish. And then the terror hit too, that choking, suffocating fear of inevitable death. Midoriya let his knees knock together. Anything to keep the ruse. Anything to keep the villains from trying to hurt Hitsugaya.

He would have _words_ with Toushiro for breaking his promise after all this was over.

Toushiro nodded nonchalantly, twirling his blade in his hands with expert precision. He seemed unconcerned by the fact that the villains were looking clammy and nervous, the soaking, unnerving foreboding that dripped from Hitsugaya's skin obviously affecting them just as much as it was affecting Izuku and the others.

"That's it. Pass Bakugo over to the five behind me, they run off, and I'm your new not-so-obstinate hostage. After all, I'm persuadable. Bakugo is just an idiot."

There was a brief pause, and then Shigaraki laughed, his voice crackled and dry, just as Midoriya remembered.

"You want me to let them go? They'll lead the heroes straight to us, you fool."

Whatever Izuku was expecting, it was not the frenetic laugh that exploded from Hitsugaya's mouth. Everyone else was silent, staring at him for a solid minute while he wheezed, the laughter echoing from him nasty, a mocking overlay running through that cold noise. But the fit calmed after a moment and Hitsugaya raised a hand, taking hold of something invisible above his shoulder that shimmered into thin blue light as he touched it, revealing a series thin threads leading into nowhere. There was a wicked, cold sneer on his golden face.

"Aside from the fact that there are trackers on two of your minions," Toushiro mocked, his haori flaring about his ankles as he took a step forward, "You're far too late to avoid the heroes."

Then he pulled on the thin threads, and with a deafening crash like breaking glass, something broke, the air falling apart into glittering shards of blue energy. A golden plane exploded into existence and stretched overhead, a glimmering barrier made only of light enclosing Shigaraki's hideout and the six students together. And behind the blue energy masquerading as empty space were…

All Might. Endeavor. Edge Shot. Kamui Woods. Gran Torino All staring. All gazing helplessly through the barrier at Hitsugaya, shocked, policemen surrounding them. Toushiro smirked, making direct eye contact with All Might before shooting a fierce glare at Endeavor. Then he turned back to Shigaraki, looking perfectly relaxed.

"So. You return Bakugo. I come quietly, and we leave. Then I drop the barrier, and they can't find us. Sound fair to everyone? And the sooner we decide, the better. This barrier isn't something I can use often, and given that All Might has given it a punch or two, well…"

Shigaraki froze, staring at All Might and the other heroes with stunned surprise. Toga squealed with fright, leaping at the heavily-scarred man. Just then, Kurogiri emerged from the doorway, holding a small pin in his hand.

"We found the trackers on Spinner and- _what the hell._ "

Then a broad smile crossed Shigaraki's crackling face, and he held out his hands to Hitsugaya, who took another few steps closer.

"Sensei, I like him. I want to keep him." he rasped, giddy with happiness.

Izuku felt his heart stop. No. No. Anyone but Hitsugaya. If All-For-One got his hands on Hitsugaya's power, that would be it. And even worse – Hitsugaya knew. Toushiro _knew_ about the connection between Shigaraki and All-For-One. He just didn't know how dangerous All-For-One was.

There was only one thing to do.

He yelled.

"NO! Toushiro, come back! Please, you _can't_!" he screamed, lunging forward. Todoroki and Kirishima caught him, baffled by his sudden panic. Hitsugaya threw a disdainful look back over his shoulder then rolled his eyes. He knew. And he was ignoring Izuku, who obviously knew what he was talking about. Why? Why would he do this? Izuku took a deep breath, eyes prickling with tears.

"He _steals Quirks_!" he howled. "He'll take your Quirks for himself, or give them to a Nomu!"

Hitsugaya paused then. He glanced back at Midoriya. And then he smiled, a satisfied smirk that had a chill of horror shooting down Izuku's spine.

Toushiro had…been expecting him to give a warning. And he'd gotten it. Had he planned on _all_ of this, from everything including the heroes's rescue attempt to the moment that he'd paused just long enough to make Izuku realize that All-For-One's existence wasn't a secret from Hitsugaya? But then the TV crackled, and a glutinous dark liquid spilled from thin air, wrapping irreversibly around Hitsugaya's ankles.

 _~"That's a good choice, Shigaraki Tomura. I will take him to meet the Nomu."~_

Hitsugaya yelped as the liquid surged up to wrap around his waist, his legs now completely engulfed by the dark fluid. Shigaraki grinned, amused by Toushiro's reaction and the way the teenager glared warily at the pitch-black liquid he stood waist-deep in.

"Alright then, time to go. Cut Bakugo loose, Dabi. Kurogiri, open a portal for the others too."

The scarred man nodded, disappeared inside, and returned a few minutes later dragging a snarling and spitting Bakugo, his hands locked inside a metal box. Dabi threw Bakugo out onto the grass and Kurogiri manifested a portal a moment later, allowing Toga and Dabi to step through. Then, before Shigaraki followed Kurogiri through the swirling void, he grinned at Hitsugaya.

"What's your name, friend?"

Hitsugaya's smirking leer slid off his face, replaced with ice. The air of fear disappeared, leaving only a kind of pure coldness in its place.

"Hitsugaya Toushiro," he replied evenly.

And then, in a swirl of black liquid and deep violet smoke, they were gone.

* * *

 **So...don't kill me for the cliffhanger. Hope you like the turn this is taking!**


	27. Silver to Scarlet

**A/N: Hey, all! I know these are taking a while to come out - please bear with me! I recently received a concussion, so staring at my computer screen for too long is kinda hard. I'm also struggling with Hunter x Hunter as well, though - I've come up with an AU for it that I'm really excited about XD**

 **Also, to that one flamer: Lol. If you don't like my story, there's a very convenient red 'X' button in the upper corner of your screen that you can press that will magically make it go away. But the PTSD is a part of the story, and it doesn't go away for the sake of plot convenience or because it's an uncomfortable topic. I wrote _in the story description_ that PTSD is a part of the story. If you weren't expecting me to actually flex my writing muscle and try to depict PTSD and mental illnesses as accurately as I can (namely, in that it is a recurring issue that will affect the story and not a side note), well. Not my problem. Go away if you can't handle it, but don't whine to me about conscious decisions I've made because you don't like them. And yeah. You're blocked now, since you obviously lack basic manners and politeness. Whine about it in a guest review again, if you must.**

 **Anyway...enjoy! And to each of my 900+ followers: OH MY GOSH THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU I'M BLESSED. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT I LOVE YOU ALL!**

 **And here we go! SPLIT FROM CANON - STARTS NOW!**

* * *

Gone.

Izuku stared at the spot where Hitsugaya had been, his entire body shaking. He barely noticed when Kirishima and Iida ran forward, hauling Bakugo to his feet, nor when a trembling Yaoyorozu shakily made a small lockpick to get the metal box off Bakugo's hands. It barely even registered when Bakugo started screeching bloody murder at all of them and pounding uselessly on the inside of the barrier even though his face was ghostly white and his hands quivered. The only thing he could focus on was absolute defeat. All-For-One had gotten to Hitsugaya, and if he managed to take Hitsugaya's Quirks from him, he'd be nigh unstoppable, with power like that.

But then he paused, wondering.

Could Hitsugaya's power even be stolen? If…if he'd been telling the truth this whole time – that the experimentation he'd undergone had given him his powers – well, then did they even count as Quirks? Hitsugaya himself had alluded to the fact that his abilities weren't the result of a Quirk, implying that they were a part of his 'non-human' status. So could All-For-One even steal that kind of power?

And then he realized something else – Hitsugaya was being taken to wherever the Nomu were. Hitsugaya, the teenager who had brought down a Nomu in three blade strokes, was being led straight into the heart of where they were made. The teenager so disturbed by human experimentation that it would shut him down was being taken straight to the place where humans were being turned into Nomu.

They had to get him out as soon as possible.

After another breathless moment of waiting, the golden barrier suddenly cracked apart and tumbled into glittering dust that faded on the atmosphere. Midoriya felt the weight leave his limbs, felt the heavy pit in his stomach disappear as iron replaced it, and he curled his hands into fists at his sides as All Might and the other pros hurried forward. He turned to Yaoyorozu, his eyes wide.

"Yaoyorozu-san, remember what Hitsugaya-kun told us," he said breathlessly. She gasped in shock, hand going to the pocket of her dress and pulling three locating devices out. She examined all three of them, then tossed two aside and lunged for All Might as he came close, his smile tainted by worry.

"All Might!" she cried, catching his attention as the policemen took hold of the six students, carefully escorting them away with reassuring words. "All Might, Hitsugaya-kun is wearing a tracker! He planned this!"

The policemen stilled, the pros turning to stare incredulously at Yaoyorozu. All Might's reassuring smile slid away, replaced by shock.

"Young Hitsugaya planned this entire expedition of yours?" the number-one hero questioned, clearly taken aback. Midoriya stepped forward then, turning a fierce gaze on his mentor, green eyes burning.

"He wouldn't tell us what his plan was, but Hitsugaya-kun made us swear to follow his every word regardless," he said forcefully. "So Yaoyorozu gave him a tracker and he stuck it to a tooth. He also made us promise…made us promise not to fight. He told us that if anything happened, we'd run while he fought. He even wanted us to throw him under the bus if we got in trouble, All Might."

A glint of brilliant blue gleamed out from the shadow of All Might's sickly gaze, and the blonde hero came closer to the group of students, his expression turning very serious. The other pros approached as well, and All Might held out a hand for the tracker. Yaoyorozu gave it to him without a word of complaint. Bakugo stayed silent, watching with mixed confusion, anger, and dawning horror as he slowly comprehended what Toushiro had done for him.

"He said he could sense seventeen Nomu at a location around 30 minutes from here, along with two more Hollows," Izuku said, his voice dropping into a whisper. "All Might, I don't know why, but he says none of you can fight Hollows – that you're actually incapable of it. Even you."

All Might laughed a bit too cheerfully and gently patted Izuku on the head. Somehow that lack of an adequate response only made things worse.

"It's all right now, young Midoriya. I will save our young troublemaker, no worries. You and the others need to leave now, however, and get out of danger," All Might said, his voice firm. "The police will take you all somewhere safe – and I imagine Aizawa-kun and Nedzu will be along to have some words with you all."

Oh. Midoriya suddenly felt a little bit dizzy and he laughed weakly at the thought of facing Aizawa. Behind him he heard groans of comprehension from the group he's come with.

"We're gonna die…" Kirishima whimpered, covering his face with his hands. Todoroki let out a heavy sigh, ignoring his father's repeated attempts at catching his attention.

"This will not be pleasant," he agreed gloomily. "No- Go away, Endeavor, I don't want to talk to you."

They all reluctantly got into the police cruisers, watching as the Pros pored over the blinking locator. Then Izuku froze, listening in on the conversation as the police tried to get him into the car.

"…that's the hideout where Best Jeanist is! They've made contact but the building is protected by something-"

Oh. Oh _no_. Izuku felt his heart sink, collapsing into his stomach with awful finality.

"All Might?" Izuku called hesitantly. The blonde hero looked up from his conversation with the other heroes, once again putting a smile on his face.

"Yes, my boy?"

Izuku swallowed hard.

"…On the way to the training camp…Hitsugaya-kun told us that he could move at Mach 6 speed because he…he can manipulate and emit exotic matter that doesn't follow the laws of physics," Izuku said, swallowing hard. The pros and policemen suddenly went silent again, staring openly. All Might went perfectly still, his reassuring expression never fading, but by his side Endeavor's cold blue eyes had widened, as had Edge Shot's sole visible eye. Kamui's wooden features had paled from the deeper color of stained oak to the soft yellow of raw pine.

"…Mach 6?" All Might repeated after a moment. "Because he can break the laws of physics at will?"

Izuku nodded breathlessly.

"All Might, running from here to the other hideout would have barely taken him two seconds at that speed, even assuming that that's the fastest he can move," he said weakly. "And if he doesn't want you fighting the Hollows, it's almost a certainty that he's blocked off the building the same way he did here. He's trying to do it alone. And…and the Nomu…with his past, I don't know if he'll be able to stand it."

It only took a moment for his mentor to understand, and when he did, that ever-present smile vanished for the second time in five minutes. The other heroes he was with turned nervous glances his way, though Endeavor's glance was more of a glare than anything. After a moment of silence, All Might let out a heavy sigh and turned his smile back on.

"Regardless of whether young Hitsugaya wants my help or not, I cannot stand by and watch, my boy. I will carry him out of there kicking and screaming if I have to." All Might's voice was much gentler now, his smile more genuine than forced. Midoriya bit his lip and ducked his head, heart clenching tightly in his chest. It was starting to sink in, just exactly what had happened.

"Thank you, All Might…"

The number one hero nodded and made a shooing motion with his hand before leaping into the air with a single, powerful jump. Izuku sniffed miserably, then let himself be coaxed into a police cruiser next to Iida, who promptly turned a hollow, hurting stare on him. The blue and red lights turned off, and the horned officer slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine with his key. The policeman glanced back over his shoulder as he pulled away from the curb, his expression kind., then turned his gaze on the road.

"Are you two unhurt?" he asked gently. "I'll take you to the hospital first if you're injured. Your friend Bakugo is being taken there to be checked over right now."

Izuku shook his head at Iida's questioning look and turned to stare out the window. Iida answered quietly, his voice subdued, and the policeman nodded silently, appearing to respect their sudden quiet. They drove in silence for several minutes, the streets of Kamino Ward growing cleaner as they approached the police station. People started to reappear on the streets, and several stared as the cruiser drove past, squinting at the tinted windows in a futile effort to see what was inside.

They were driven around to the back of the station, then escorted inside to a small room with a low coffee table and a few older couches. Yaoyorozu was already curled up on one of the couches, her head in her hands, and Todoroki was standing by the window, gazing through the bars outside of it at the moon. A small flatscreen TV showing the news was attached to one wall, but nobody was really paying attention to it. Kirishima looked up from his spot in one of the chairs as Midoriya and Iida walked in, ignoring the presence of the policewoman sitting on the arm of the couch

The policewoman smiled tiredly and nodded at them as they walked in, then turned back to her crossword puzzle.

"Go ahead and sit down, kids. The detectives will be here in a little while to ask you all a few questions, and your parents and teachers have been called to come chew you out," she said. "If anyone's hungry or thirsty, let me know and I can order us some snacks, but please don't leave the room without my permission."

Iida just nodded blankly, and Izuku let himself collapse bonelessly onto the other end of Yaoyorozu's couch. Kirishima looked around at everyone, his fists white-knuckled in his lap.

"…Hitsugaya-kun lied to us, didn't he?"

Midoriya closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shut it out. It was the one thing he didn't want to believe of Hitsugaya, but the one thing he knew that he believed anyway. Nobody said anything in reply to Kirishima's question. The redhead choked up.

"About keeping himself safe," Kirishima clarified after a moment, sounding like he was trying to fight back tears. "About not doing anything to land himself a prison cell."

"No, Kirishima, he was being completely, utterly honest with us," Todoroki snapped suddenly, glaring hard at the startled redhead in the chair. His mismatched eyes were slightly red around the edges, and his lips were pulling back like a wounded animal's snarl, but he couldn't hold Kirishima's gaze for more than a second. "He _obviously_ wasn't manipulating us to get us to do what he wanted. He _obviously_ didn't betray our trust by offering himself to the League of Villains!"

Kirishima glared right back and stood up out of his chair, fists hardening, then took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Iida and Yaoyorozu said nothing, watching miserably from their corners of the room.

"Todoroki-kun, there's no need to snap at me."

For a split second it seemed like Todoroki had curled his hand into a fist, ready to throw a punch, but then he let out a strangled laugh and slumped back against the wall, burying his face in his hands.

"…Sorry. It's just…"

His voice trailed off into nothing, and for a moment the silence returned, not one of them willing to speak. Then Midoriya finally took a deep breath and said what they were all thinking.

"Hitsugaya-kun betrayed our trust," he said quietly. "And…I think it's because he's pushing us away again. He wouldn't have opened up to us about that sick Giselle person otherwise."

There was another long silence this one completely unbroken save for the quiet scratch of the policewoman's pencil on her crossword puzzle and the low, nearly inaudible hum of the newscaster on the small TV in the background. Midoriya watched the screen absently, trying to distract himself from the hurt that came from Hitsugaya's deceit.

The newscasters appeared to be discussing Best Jeanist, given that his picture was onscreen, and somehow Mt. Lady was also thrown into the mix, though Izuku wasn't quite sure why. He watched them tiredly for a long minute, faintly baffled by the urgent excitement with which the newscasters were speaking. But then the picture changed, the news agency's banner running across the base of the screen, a band of blue bright against the bird's-eye view of a flattened area of broken concrete, shattered buildings, and rubble. And collapsed over top of all of this were the heroes, lying unconscious on the peripherals of the destroyed area.

Izuku leapt to his feet and ran to the television, sudden panic welling up in him. His friends and the policewoman yelped in surprise, then stared in horror as Izuku knelt in front of the television and fiddled with the volume buttons.

 _~"-minutes ago, when the barrier broke! It seems that whatever was going on inside the building had spilled over to the outside, and when the heroes went to intervene, the blast caught them all."~_

It was a frantic young voice, the reporter's face not currently onscreen, but it wasn't the words or the fallen heroes that had caught Izuku and the others' attention. No, what had instead draw their horrified gazes was the sole figure standing upright, barely a scratch on him, green eyes glowing with icy brilliance, frost laced over the ground.

Hitsugaya stood, sword drawn and dripping red, with a wicked smirk on his face. And at his feet was the broken body of a young woman with a bony helmet that had a red, feather-like riff attached to it. Two more young women stood in front of him, one with a strange hole under her sternum, the other dressed head to toe in solid white. They both had bony protrusions on their heads as well.

They were screaming.

It was obvious, even though the news crew's camera couldn't catch their words. But Hitsugaya just stood there, utterly uncaring, the girl on the ground unmoving. He said something, a cruel glint in the jaded color of his narrowed gaze, and the curly-haired woman roared with fury. She charged, screaming soundlessly, and Hitsugaya blurred out of existence at the same time as the snakelike woman. There was a brilliant flash of orange for second, and then the snakelike woman reappeared, the other girl with her, and Hitsugaya stepped softly onto the concrete.

He was still smirking, and as the camera zoomed in on these three, Izuku saw the careless glance, the dismissive gesture Hitsugaya made in the fallen girl's direction. The police station's holding room was so quiet that the harsh crackle of the reporter's voice deafened Izuku. Then, finally, Kirishima broke the silence.

"…he's not acting like a hero at all," the teenager breathed, the skin around his eyes hardening involuntarily. Nobody disagreed with him. Even Izuku, who felt his heart fragment the longer that cruel sneer stayed on his friend's face, had to acknowledge that sole fact.

Not only had Hitsugaya killed once, but he was prepared to do it again.

And he was prepared to do it with a smile.

* * *

Emerging from thick, smelly goop in a dimly-lit warehouse definitely wasn't Hitsugaya's preferred form of travel, but for right now he'd keep his mouth shut. He could sense the two Hollows he'd identified earlier in the back of the warehouse somewhere, out of his direct line of sight. They seemed agitated by the barrier, but not particularly worried – likely because the barrier in question wasn't at a high-enough level to cut off its spacetime from the spacetime around it, leaving it prone to Senkaimon and Garganta escapes. The heroes he'd protected earlier were still on the outside of the barrier, however, moving around agitatedly. And the awful, crawling darkness of the Nomu was here, all seventeen of the ones he could sense confined in this one room with him, dormant. They were in the vats along the walls, he rather thought, probably held in stasis like developing Mod Souls.

Ragdoll was here too, somewhere in the indistinguishable back of the warehouse. He could feel her soul trembling weakly, faint even for a human soul. She probably needed medical attention, but if he was gauging her strength right, then it wasn't immediately life-threatening.

Everything was going according to plan thus far. Good.

Shigaraki came out of a misting black portal at his side, several unfamiliar villains emerging from the smog a little farther away. He said nothing, watching them pad lightly around the large warehouse in the same manner that one would watch ants scurrying about their business. The villains circled him warily, no overt hostility in that cautious action, carefully and nervously blocking off all his methods of ground-level escape. Part of him wanted to laugh when Shigaraki appeared to size him up. As if any of these humans could compete with him on any level.

The Hollows hiding out of sight were another matter. They almost felt familiar, and that was never a good sign with enemies.

After a moment, Shigaraki broke the long silence, curling his cracked hands into his pockets, the singed hand covering his face still pressed over his distinguishing features. Hitsugaya listened to him prattle on for a few droll moments, listening with minimal interest to Shigaraki's goal of shaking hero society to it's core. Then he started to get bored.

"If you're done?"

The interruption was a drawl, his villainous act evaporating like dew on a summer morning. Shigaraki glared at him, dry red eyes glinting with malice but before he could open his mouth Hitsugaya interjected.

"I lied. I'm not here to join up with you, but I'm not here to fight any of you humans, either," he groaned, boredom saturating his words. Arrogance would serve him better than coldness here. "Well, with one exception. Is All-for-One responsible for creating the Nomu?"

The villains in the League stared gracelessly at him for a long moment, his words quite obviously throwing them far off-kilter. Shigaraki chuckled a bit.

"…you…want to fight Sensei?" he asked, cracked lips curling into a smile behind the disembodied hand on his face. Hitsugaya did nothing, folding his hands into his shihakusho sleeves with an eye roll. He could already sense the churning human malice at the back of the room, hidden in the shadow of the Nomus' tormented nails-on-a-chalkboard reiatsu. It was an evil strong enough to turn his stomach, and the source was human soul. Absently, Toushiro wondered if that evil alone would be enough to summon the Gates of Hell to this dimension, or if the man's soul would simply evaporate there on its own. He rather hoped that All-For-One wouldn't harbor any lingering attachment to this human world – performing a Konso would surely out him as a ghost of some kind.

"He's broken one of the highest laws of my people by creating Nomu out of humans without permission," Hitsugaya said evenly. "If he is indeed the one to create the Nomu, that is."

Shigaraki laughed hoarsely, cracked lips splitting wide, and he raised his arms as if to encompass all of his scattered villain minions. His red eyes glinted, bloodshot behind the dismembered hand. It woud have been vaguely intimidating if Hitsugaya wasn't nearly bored out of his mind.

"Sensei is indeed one of the creators of the Nomu, Hitsugaya Toushiro," the desiccated man said with a silly titter, obviously more than amused by what he clearly perceived to be cockiness. "But he's too high-level for you to beat at the moment."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and sniffed haughtily.

"He's _human_ ," he replied icily, "and therefore, he's nothing more than a speck to me. The two – or possibly more – Hollows you have hiding in this warehouse, however, may put up a decent fight. Enough to be a workout, at least. Heaven knows I'm stiff from boredom."

There was a long silence, the human villains taken aback by his utter nonchalance and overwhelming arrogance, and Hitsugaya sighed with resignation, stroking Hyourinmaru's hilt gently.

"Do I need to come to you, Arrancar?"

The moisture hovering in the air split apart, a searing screech filling the vast space, and Toushiro whipped his blade around, blocking the attack without looking. The spiked chikrams grated against the steel of his blade, a red-feathered ruff on the girl's head. She was heterochromatic and familiar. His chest tightened, teeth grinding as anger surged white and hot in his veins. Matsumoto and Hinamori had nearly been killed by these three.

"Hey, little boy," she sneered, "Grew up a bit since last time, didn't you?"

Hitsugaya twitched, haori billowing as he shoved, his extra leverage with Hyourinmaru's long blade sending Harribel's Fraccion flying into a wall, concrete chips crumbling from around her shoulders and bone-plated skull. Then he ducked, bending backwards as a white sai stabbed through the space where his torso had been, dark hair and deadened lavender eyes glinting with serpentine venom. The second of Harribel's Fraccion backed off quickly, dodging the high kick that Toushiro half-heartedly snapped at the unprotected half of her head. He was already distracted by the faint hint of fiery pride and orange-red fur tickling at his back, defenses rising. The backflip was completed effortlessly, and he reached behind him, gathering reiatsu in the palm of his hand.

"Bakudo no Sanjuuni. Enkosen."

The third Arrancar's broadsword screeched deafeningly against the shield of glowing yellow, the third woman's olive skin rippling as her muscles strained to make up for the difference in the strength of their reiatsu. Toushiro raised a cocky eyebrow at her.

"You call that a sneak attack?" he asked, smirking darkly. "You leaked reiatsu like a net leaks water."

Glistening metal left a trail of diamond dust in its wake, and he grunted, shoulders pulling hard as Hyourinmaru crashed against the blade of bone. The Arrancar squalled with rage as her sword was batted aside, but recovered from the misstep in time to dodge the smoking flash of lighting that crackled from his fingertip. She Sonidoed away, moving to stand behind her two comrades. Hitsugaya chuckled mildly.

"Giving up the strategic advantage of having me surrounded, I see," he taunted, letting loose his innate aura, the cold flare of power woven through his soul glittering with icy malice. "Didn't you make the same mistake last time?"

The heterochromatic Arrancar screeched with incoherent rage, red energy crackling around her fist. _Bala_ , Hitsugaya's brain supplied helpfully, and Toushiro rolled his eyes, leaping over the attack as it fired. The Bala exploded through the concrete wall behind him, destroying several Nomu tanks as well, then impacted with the barrier he'd put up. The golden shield flexed dangerously, creaking. Hitsugaya glanced back at it, panic flickering across his gaze. It could hold up against a Bala, and that had been lucky. But a Cero would destroy it in a heartbeat.

And the blast would instantly catch all of the heroes outside as well.

"So, you placed a barrier here as well, child? You _are_ quite something, aren't you?"

 _Oh, hell no!_

He whirled around to face the man with evil in his soul, keen shinigami eyes easily piercing through the gloom to see that All-for-One was walking towards him, a tank-like mask on his face. The Fraccion temporarily paused, watching the human approach with some measure of obedience. Not good. Toushiro snarled ferally.

"I'm not one of your pathetic human children, so watch your mouth," he hissed. Shigaraki growled low in the back of his throat, his anger roused by Hitsugaya's obvious arrogance.

" _You_ watch your mouth – Sensei isn't particularly fond of backtalk."

All-for-One raised his hands placidly, gently motioning for Shigaraki to stand down, and the Arrancar backed up a pace as well. Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed, that simple movement enough to confirm the existence of at least a non-aggression pact between the Arrancar and the League of Villains. But who would do that? It was clear from just that gesture that the Arrancar women were following All-For-One's orders, but they were loyal to Harribel. And Harribel wouldn't risk her tentative truce with Seireitei just to pillage an alternate human dimension. Would she?

He'd thought much better of her, but perhaps he'd been mistaken.

"Now, Tomura, it's quite alright," All-for-One said smoothly and Hitsugaya had to cringe at the sound of his voice. "This young man is quite powerful, according to what _he_ told me, and is less human than even the Nomu I've made for you. He has every right to be arrogant."

The creeping malice that prickled down Hitsugaya's spine stank like the oily black fluid that had transported him here, and Toushiro had to repress an involuntary shudder of repulsion. So. The Arrancar _had_ established an alliance, then, if All-for-One had information on him in any way. Ugh. This was getting far too complicated, and he _hated_ when dealing with Hollows wasn't straightforward and simple. It always reminded him too much of Aizen and that whole debacle.

But…who was " _he_?" Had Harribel been overthrown by a new Vasto Lorde?

He didn't have time to think about this now.

"You're the one responsible for creating the Nomu, then? You're All-for-One?" Hitsugaya greeted coldly. "I have to admit, after the warnings I received from All Might and a few of the other U.A. teachers, I rather thought you would be somewhat more ominous a figure, given you can – what, steal Quirks?"

All-for-One let out a pleasantly-surprised laugh and clapped his hands together a few times in mock applause, taking another few steps forward.

"Oho, what a lack of fear," he commented. "Does it not frighten you, that I can steal your powers and transfer them into a living weapon?"

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, clenching Hyourinmaru's unsheathed hilt tightly against the brief memory of Cang Du's control over his Bankai. His dragon purred soothingly in the back of his mind. He couldn't lose focus. Not now, with three Fraccion in front of him.

 _God, not now._

He took a deep, steadying breath, glaring intently at the man in front of him.

"Even if you somehow managed to rip out the core of my soul, my power is not so easily controlled. It would destroy you before you could even think of beginning to use it," he snarled, voice growing guttural. He allowed the cloaking aura of death clinging to his skin to seep into the room and grinned in appreciation as All-for-One stiffened slightly, obviously recognizing the sensation. "Besides, you're too arrogant. Assuming my powers are the result of a mere Quirk? How amusing."

Hitsugaya took a smooth step forward, his haori billowing about his ankles, lips curving up. He could still hear the soundless screaming, still feel the stretched anguish of the human souls trapped in the inhuman Nomu bodies, and the slow, glacial wrath he nutured deep within his soul rumbled threateningly. All-for-One seemed unconcerned by his approach, though Shigaraki and his cronies seemed shaken, the horrific spectre he cast over the warehouse sending crackles of fear into their bones. The Fraccion glanced at them in disgust, unaffected by the pall of a vengeful spirit.

"Shigaraki, you did quite well in bringing me this one, I think," All-for-One said gently. "Even if I have angered his people, my dear friends will be enough to contain them, I think. Is that not correct?"

The last comment was quite clearly directed at the Arrancar trio, and the heterochromatic girl smirked, a blast of crackling red reiatsu twitching from around her fingertips.

"Damn straight – this little bitch will pay for even thinking he could compete with Harribel-sama," she leered. "I've wanted to skewer him on my horns for a long time now."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, then returned the glare with a heavy dose of bloodthirst, frost and ice crackling onto the concrete floor. If All-for-One wanted him to fight these idiots first, then he'd fight the idiots. It wasn't like he'd ever miss the nasty human reiatsu of these villains ever again, and following them would be remarakably simple with a Kyokko and barrier.

"I will not waste time bandying words with you. If you wish to fight, come. Otherwise cower behind your words like the spineless worm you are. I will not pursue you if you flee back to Hueco Mundo."

The serpentine girl dropped her sleeve from her face, the pink dots beneath her eye wrinkling slightly as she smiled unkindly.

"As you wish, little captain. Forgive me if I target your weaknesses first, however."

Pink light gathered in her hand, the whine of a Cero growing into a steady drone, and the lion-like woman behind her did the same, orange-red reiatsu glowing like fire on her olive palm. For a moment, Toushiro stared at them, nonplussed. A Cero wouldn't hit him, not when they were being that obvious about it. So-

 _The barrier wouldn't hold_.

"No!"

He lunged, eyes widening, ice crackling over his barrier in a desperate attempt to reinforce it, but it wouldn't be _enough_ and the two Arrancar giggled as twin beams of colored light incinerated stone and swirled into destructive cones of explosive light and sound and deafening thunder. The warehouse roof cracked from the force of the explosion and fell in chunks of manmade stone and iron rebar, and he moved, flashing away from the imploding building as parts of the ceiling and walls crumbled. Panic crawled up his throat, spiderlike on the back of his tongue, and he gagged on it, reaching blindly for the faint human presences that had been scattered around the building before it had evaporated in a flash of incinerating reiatsu.

His breath caught as he stepped out onto flat, scorched earth, the heroes and civilians caught amidst the debris ringing the shattered area which had once been a city block. He focused hard, sweat trickling down the back of his neck, then gasped in weak relief. As far as he could tell, none of the humans had died. They were injured, certainly. But nobody was dead. His barriers had done at least that much.

At least.

There was a soft buzz behind him, and the trio of Arrancar stepped out of Sonido. A moment later, the glutinous black goop that had transported him to the warehouse appeared, and Shigaraki spilled out of it, with all his minions. All-for-One stepped gracefully out just a moment behind them. The snake-like Arrancar glanced back over her shoulder at All-for-One, distaste plain on her face.

"You see?" she said. "Others are his greatest weakness. His kind are pledged to protect humans, so attacking the bystanders is quite an easy way to get to them."

All-for-One made some kind of noncommittal noise, apparently unimpressed by the tactic, and Shigaraki hummed with interest, surveying the area with that stupid hand still plastered to his face.

"Are any of them dead?" the pale-haired man asked blithely, "It would be somewhat disappointing if any of them made it through that blast alive."

Hitsugaya felt something inside him snap. His fists clenched, spine stiffening, and heat rose through the grinding ice of his soul, the hissing roar of a dragon echoing across the plain of ice.

"How dare you use human lives to get to me?" he growled. Reiryoku bubbled under his skin, straining against the limiter on his chest. "How _dare_ you."

Slowly he reached up, fingers hovering above his heart, and glared at the trio of smug Arrancar girls, teeth bared in a white snarl. His cold reiatsu thickened in the air around him, pressuring the atmosphere tightly, and frost spread across the cracked and broken slabs of concrete. He turned that fierce glare on All-for-One, death gathering in his eyes.

"Executing you will be easy, human," he snarled. "And you, Arrancar – you will regret making me this angry."

The daffodil turned white on his chest and flaked off. The trio of Arrancar stared at it for a moment, confused by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the small tattoo.

" _Gentei Kaijo_."

It was slow, the rising thunder of his power crescendoing in his chest like a waking beast, the steel cage that held it snapping apart like dry straw. Icy reiatsu crackled over his skin, cold and soothingly sharp, the sound of shrieking wind and the rumbling cacophony of thunder pulsing in his soul. The moon overhead began to shine, the summer night sky turning cold. And then everything broke free all at once, the better part of his senses and soul released in a wild rush of white and ice and bluing frost, silver light wreathing him in frozen fire and piercing through the atmosphere in a column of wintry fury.

He sighed with relief, the burst of ferocious adrenaline rippling like water through the furor of his storming soul and settled. The blonde villain with the messy twin buns fell backwards as his gaze landed on her, reiatsu snapping in the glowing jade of his glare. She whimpered, tears of terror standing in her eyes. All-for-One took a surreptious step away. Air rushed into his lungs, the full expanse of his abilities swelling readily to his control, and as the light cloaking him faded into a ghostly shimmer on his skin he smiled cruelly. He was controlling his reiatsu tightly, directing it away from the humans and hiding with near-perfect success, but the lingering pressure still remained in the air, a frightening testament to his growing powers. He would have to unleash it to fight, but until that exact moment he would hide it.

Harribel's servants readied their blades, obviously not expecting the release to have come so soon, or for it to have happened at all. He raised Hyourinmaru's blade, pointing it carelessly at the heterochromatic woman.

"You first," he said, his voice deceptively pleasant. "Since you called me a little boy."

Then he turned to look at Shigaraki, eyes flashing, ice and frost spiderwebbing gently over his skin. A mirthless sneer peeled his lips away from his teeth.

"Take a deep breath, humans."

Then he let go, releasing the tightly-held control over his massive reiatsu, and the villains dropped. Even All-for-One keeled over, barely managing to keep himself on his hands and knees, gasping for breath as the cloying weight of Hitsugaya's reiatsu settled. The Arrancar followed suit, their reiatsu rising to push his back in self-defense, and he smiled wickedly. Then he leapt, Hyourinmaru slicing the air into thin ribbons as he Shunpoed forward at full speed, wind just barely able to lick at his face and clothes.

The dichromatic-eyed woman blocked his blade hurriedly, her chikrams grinding against Hyourinmaru's keen edge in a shower of sparks. Her elbow cracked loudly, the awkward cross of her arms causing a grimace to cross her face. Toushiro sneered, abruptly spinning the other direction on the ball of his foot, blade whistling. His opponent yelped, stumbling to the left as the resistance against her weapon vanished, and as she turned Hitsugaya whipped the long silver length of Hyourinmaru's blade across her ribcage.

She cried out, catching Hyourinmaru with a chikram before the sword could bite any deeper. Toushiro yanked backward, drawing his Zanpakutou close to his chest, and ducked low, gliding along the frosted ground as the sai and broadsword snapped overhead.

The curly-haired woman roared as he dodged toward her, her reddish-orange reiatsu flaring along the length of her heavy blade. Grunting, she easily changed her blade's trajectory, directing it down toward the shinigami with a growl. Hitsugaya saw the strike coming and planted a hand on the frozen earth, turning to the side just in time to raise Hyourinmaru over his head and block.

Orange screeching rent the air, deafeningly loud, and Hitsugaya snarled with effort, back flat against the concrete and rubble. Then he rolled to the inside, Hyourinmaru sliding noisily against the bone sword straining overhead, and stepped, crossing meters in a single short Shunpo. Three prongs of white shot toward his chest, the Arrancar entering Sonido to follow him, and he whirled to the side, slashing diagonally with his Zanpakutou. A chikram clanged against his blade, the deer-like woman materializing on her comrade's outstretched arm with a snarl, bleeding from the slash across her chest, her second chikram drawn back in a prepared blow.

Hitsugaya ducked under the thrown weapon, sliding his blade out of place against the chikram, and backpedaled quickly. The crescent-moon blade clattered sharply as he called on it, the partial-Shikai whirling into existence, and he threw the smaller blade as the lioness Sonidoed on top of him, entangling one arm in the ice-cold metal links. She screeched as ice crept up to her shoulder, chipping at her flesh. Then he swung, pulling hard on the chain, and the woman was thrown a dozen yards away, the ice on her arm shattering as it hit concrete, bits of her arm breaking off with it.

Sharp hissing cracked across his eardrums and he flipped, the sai thrusting through the hazy afterimage of his side, his haori nearly caught by the attack. Hitsugaya Shunpoed, moist air whirling around his Zanpakutou, and when he was a decent distance away he raised the sword in his hands.

"Souten ni zase, Hyourinmaru!"

Ice and water flooded from the silvered length of his glacial blade, frost curlicuing over his lips in pale renditions of beauty, and the dragon in his soul roared, exploding in winter fury into the atmosphere and circling his body tightly, like a shield of diamond scales. Then Toushiro yelled wordlessly, slicing down at the two clustered Arrancar, and the dragon flew with a searing howl, its gaping maw opening wide to reveal teeth of ivory ice.

The two women dodged, the serpentine Arrancar choosing to go to her lioness-comrade's aid, but the deerlike one charged him instead as his Shikai sent spires of ice thirty meters into the air, diamond dust creaking from the razor-edged points.

She was wide open.

"Hado no Gojuuyon, Haien!"

The blast of violet flame caught her full in the chest, searing through her Hierro into the muscle and bone beneath, and a terrible scream rang out as she fell. Hitsugaya bounded lightly backwards, more nimble on his feet than most given his slender build, and smirked wickedly as the other two Arrancar howled in rage, their friend collapsing on her face, badly hurt but still breathing.

"You _hurt Apache!_ " the lion-like woman shrieked, and lunged, her broadsword blurring out of existence momentarily. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, blocking the haphazard swing with ease, and raised a hand to cast another kido when the sai came at his face again and he Shunpoed another pace back, still smirking. The snake-woman had restrained her taller, broader companion, dark hair fluttering with effort.

"I'll cut you a deal," he said finally, narrowing his eyes at the furious women before him. He didn't particularly want to kill these three, not after Harribel had taken him seriously in their battle all those years ago. "I respected Harribel a lot until she sent you here to prey on a defenseless population. You take the Hollows and get the hell out of this dimension, and I won't finish her. Consider this the result of my last vestiges of respect for your mistress."

He flicked his hand in Apache's direction, the charred smoke hissing slightly from around her burned form, and he swung his Zanpakutou neatly, the blood staining it flying off its length. For a moment, the snake-girl and her lion-companion were frozen, obviously considering his offer seriously. Then the snake-Arrancar dipped her helmeted head, lavender eyes narrowing in warning, and Sonidoed over to her fallen comrade.

"He won't like this much, but we will at least retreat for now, Taicho-san," she said stiffly, picking her burnt friend up with trembling arms, "Ultimately, we Hollows only follow orders of those stronger than us, even Harribel-sama."

Toushiro paused, a tingling current of foreboding trickling down the ridge of his spine, and he felt it settle low in his stomach, nausea clenching his gut. He glanced over at the crippled humans, then flicked his gaze back to the snake-woman. That had been a warning, a very pointed warning, and she hadn't needed to give it if Harribel's aim truly had been to prey on the humans in this world.

He dipped his head neatly, shoulder blades drawing low and tense in his back.

"…I understand. Then the next time we meet, know that I will not stop my blade."

The two Arrancars nodded, the taller woman scowling darkly at him, and then the lion-woman burst out.

"You should know, shinigami-taicho," she spat, venom dripping from her words. "The implants in zombie-Luppi's brain were still working, even in this alternate dimension. He just couldn't feel the pain."

 _What?_

Hitsugaya blinked in surprise, confused by the follow-up statement, but before he could protest even in the slightest the lion-woman opened a Garganta and stepped inside, followed by the snake-woman and their unconscious companion. The sky sealed with a sound like a zipper closing, the large toothlike protuberances of spacetime smoothing into nothingness, and Hitsugaya stared down at the frosted earth, reluctantly lifting his fingers to his collarbone again, replacing the limiter with a sigh and easing his spiritual pressure.

The humans stayed down for a moment, sweat running down their faces, souls compressed in their fragile human bodies. Shigaraki shakily pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, staring from behind the hand on his face.

"…what _are_ you?" he whispered, his voice cracked. Hitsugaya stopped to stare at him with an even glare.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he sighed finally. "I can't fight you humans with this power. Feel free to be evil or whatever – I can only fight that with my fists."

There was a thunderous crash from some distance away, an exhausted-looking All Might landing neatly in a crouch amidst the broken buildings. Toushiro suppressed a flinch, already anticipating what would inevitably come next and dreading it with some childish portion of his soul. Then he turned slowly to All-for-One, his gaze flat.

"The penalty for meddling with the soul is execution, human," he said quietly, ignoring All Might's calls of his name from across the battlefield. There was still just enough of his reiatsu saturating the air so as to slow All Might's movement, and for this he was grateful. All-for-One, still on his hands and knees, looked up slowly, then pushed himself into a semi-sitting position.

"…All Might is supposed to be the one to fight me," he said, voice cracked and trembling with the effort it was taking to sit upright after being so thoroughly crushed by a captain's reiatsu. Toushiro raised an eyebrow.

"If your crimes did not transgress into my jurisdiction, I would have no qualms allowing you to flee," he murmured in an undertone, All Might now struggling through the thick cloak of lingering reiatsu mere meters away from them. "…I would send your underlings away now, if you do not want them to be caught. And should you flee with them, I will pursue you."

All-for-One's mask creaked ominously for a moment before settling, as if he had moved his face under the dark thing. Perhaps a smile?

"…you're a true wildcard, whatever you are, and if you are truly stronger than those women I will be no trouble for you. I only hope Tomura will prove to be your match one day," All-for-One replied, and with a trembling flick of his wrist he sent the oily black liquid to swallow up the rest of the villains. Shigaraki cried out as he disappeared, crying for his teacher. Hitsugaya raised his blade, reiatsu churning in his palms as All Might reached for him, panic clouding the brilliant blue of his shadowed eyes.

All-for-One remained sitting still, unresisting for some strange reason. Toushiro blinked once, trying to discern the reason for that odd acceptance as he brought his Zanpakutou down in a flash of silver.

There was a slight chuckle, and without warning the malice of this human's soul exploded with rich mirth

"He was right about you, Hitsugaya-taicho."

The words barely registered before Hyourinmaru ran red, an arc of thick scarlet warmth splattering across All Might's knees. All-for-One went silent, his metal mask revealing nothing. The number one hero froze, his outstretched arm falling uselessly to his side. And Hitsugaya straightened, the blood freezing and flaking slowly off his blade, wondering hollowly if he'd done the right thing regardless of what his orders – of what his people's law – had been.

It felt different, killing a living human. It felt cold.

He hadn't expected that.

Hitsugaya sealed his reiatsu fully, hiding it from human notice, and again hid the aura of death that naturally clung to him, staring down at the man sitting silently before him. Hyourinmaru purred comfortingly in the back of his mind, a low rumble of grinding ice, and mechanically, he sheathed his blade in its coat of indigo ice, still grasping it lightly in his hands.

Then, as All-for-One's head slid sideways off his neck, blood fountaining from the stump, Toushiro held out his Zanpakutou to All Might, emerald gaze blank, his gold-toned face paled by melting frost. The faint snapping of a spectral chain breaking cracked sharply in the air around them. But no soul appeared. All-for-One hadn't lingered.

Toushiro swallowed the lump rising in his throat.

"I'm done here."

All Might gazed down at him, caught between horror and relief. Then, hesitantly, the number one hero took the sheathed weapon from his student's hands, his bulky frame and large hands dwarfing the long blade. He put a hand on Toushiro's shoulder, squeezing wordlessly, as if trying to pass comfort to his student without speaking.

Police sirens wailed in the distance.

"…I can't save you now, young Hitsugaya," All Might told him softly, something shattered behind the blue of his crisp gaze. Hitsugaya smiled cheerlessly, lips curling without any warmth to that expression as the hand on his shoulder gently pressed him forward. He started walking, head held high, letting All Might escort him past the broken bodies of injured civilians and heroes. The members of the police cordon stared at him soundlessly as he passed. He didn't care.

"…I've never needed saving, All Might," he replied, his voice stronger than he'd expected, lingering questions circling his mind.

 _Ultimately, we Hollows only follow orders of those stronger than us, even Harribel-sama._

 _The implants in zombie-Luppi's brain were still working, even in this alternate dimension. He just couldn't feel the pain._

 _He was right about you, Hitsugaya-taicho_.

"…would you like me to say anything to your friends, Hitsugaya-kun?" All Might asked then, and for the first time, Toushiro stumbled, his foot catching on air, and he wheezed, breath driven from his lungs by the gentle question. _Midoriya. Todoroki. Yaoyorozu._ _Class 1-A_. The blue and red lights of sirens flashed across his face, police approaching carefully. All Might stayed at his side as a pair of policemen searched him and cuffed his hands behind his back, working silently. Toushiro tested the steel absently, gratified by the slight squeal of protest from the metal.

"…no," he decided, gazing forward. "I did my duty to my people by any means necessary. It is not something they will understand now, if they didn't before."

All Might didn't say anything else, his smile gone and replaced with a faint frown of worry. Toushiro closed his eyes. And as he was guided into the backseat of a police cruiser and driven away, he tried to ignore the blue stare burning into the back of his head.

All-for-One was dead, and he was one step closer to discovering just how strong this alliance between human villains and Hollows ran. He was one step closer to going home – god, everything had become so complex since he'd appeared in this alternate world. One step closer to removing supernatural danger from the lives of every being here. But he'd had to betray his friends to accomplish that.

He leaned back against the plastic seats, the plexiglass and iron bars separating him from the policemen in the front ignored in favor of staring at the ceiling. A wry, sour smile curled his lips up. They'd understand eventually.

He hoped.

* * *

 **Leave your thoughts in the box below, if it suits you! :D (I know, I did a _thing_ here *cackles*)**


	28. Silvertongue Truthteller

**A/N: HOLY SHIT I'VE HIT A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS.**

 **THERE'S A THOUSAND OF YOU FOLLOWING THIS CHAOTIC TRAIN WRECK. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT, SILENT OR OTHERWISE. I'M - I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS EXCEPT BY SOBBING. PLEASE FORGIVE THE ALL CAPS.**

 **In other news, I'm now also writing a Hunter x Hunter AU, if any of you like that fandom! For Bleach fans - I'm a moderator on a Bleach Discord Fandom, so PM me if you wanna chat with other fic writers!**

 **AND FINALLY - I and a few friends are considering starting up a Bleach Big Bang challenge! if that goes live, I will be posting something on my A03 version of this story, so stay tuned!**

 **Now, finally, the 'truth' can come out. Tsukauchi Naomasa is a good bean.**

* * *

He leaned back against the grey stone, head back and chin tipped up towards the ceiling, knees bent so that his feet balanced precariously on the edge of the thin mattress. Boredom was his most pressing problem now. That and the plate of cold food sitting on the floor, untouched though it had been brought in almost thirty minutes ago. But the policeman standing in the hallway, painted steel bars framing his face, trying to convince him to eat? That guy was a minor nuisance.

"…Would you just eat it, please? The hospital staff is about to wring the Chief's head off for keeping you here in the first place."

Toushiro cracked open one eye, sparing the blonde policeman a critical glance. Then he shut his eyes again, going back to ignoring the man and being generally obstinate. Like hell he was going to be some docile little pet, now that his subversion had been made clear. All the pieces for sliding out of the human punishments were in place, and even if they did attempt to incarcerate him it wasn't as if he was a creature they knew how to contain. Besides, he had the unique leverage of his cooperation. He was certain that every one of the individuals currently in the police station were aware that the only reason he was still in their hands was because he wasn't actively resisting.

His strength wasn't something to be underestimated. And he rather thought that the U.A. and the pro heroes associated with that school finally understood that about him following the effortless execution of the man they had seemed so frightened of. All-for-One. Honestly, he'd been disappointing, for a human that had been so evil. He too had crumbled under the ponderous weight of Hitsugaya's Spiritual Pressure. It had been impressive, and unusual, that none of them had lost consciousness, but they'd managed little more than that feat.

Anyway. Perhaps he needed to show the humans just who held all the cards now.

"…I will eat if you take these off," he answered finally, voice flat with irritation, and he held up his hands, which were now bound together in front of him with steel handcuffs. The blonde man on the other side of the bars blinked in surprise at him, confused by the sudden response, then sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry, kid, I can't do that."

The unspoken _'you're too dangerous'_ sent a thrill of pleasure crawling down Hitsugaya's back, tingling gently as that chill prickled between his shoulder blades. He smiled condescendingly.

"Then quit bothering me," he replied levelly, and said nothing else. The blonde policeman growled in frustration, hands coming up to pull at the hair on his temples. Toushiro scoffed lightly, smirking, and leaned back against the wall again. He'd offered terms. They'd come around eventually.

He ignored the blonde as the irritated man muttered a whine for assistance into his radio, listening only to Hyourinmaru's rumbling purr in the silence of his clear soul. He could sense where his Zanpakutou was, lying unattended somewhere else in the police station, likely in a lab or an armory of some kind. Midoriya and his motley crew of misfits were also somewhere in the station, far closer to Hyourinmaru than he was. It was a minor comfort, that Midoriya, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, and the others were being cared for elsewhere – it meant they were most likely safe from criminal charges. Then he felt a few other people approaching, two of them expectedly familiar. Toushiro sighed. This was going to be painful.

The first of the approaching trio to come into his line of sight was the Chief of Police, his drooping ears falling on either side of his canine face. Gruffly, the dog-man sighed, spotting the untouched plate on the floor. The two he recognized stayed out of sight, and he rolled his eyes, far too bored by all of this.

"Son, why aren't you eating?" the police chief barked at him, drooping ears swinging placidly beside his head. Toushiro raised an eyebrow, then raised his cuffed hands again.

"Take these off and I'll eat," he demanded again. The police chief snorted, his whiskers twitching with some kind of amusement.

"Negotiating already, are you, little villain?" he asked, clearly unimpressed. Hitsugaya grinned widely at him, trying hard not to laugh cruelly at the policeman in front of him.

"Little _villain_? Why, you're going to hurt Eraserhead's feelings, talking like that about me," he shot back, casting a careless glance down the hallway he knew Aizawa and Nedzu were standing in just out of sight. "You two don't have to hide from me, you know."

The two policemen stared at him with some consternation, stunned by his casual call, and after a pregnant pause both Aizawa and Nedzu sidled silently into his line of sight. Nedzu's nose was twitching, the scar around his eye pulling white, the anger and upset simmering in his spirit still tinged with a hint of rodent. Aizawa on the other hand, was grey-faced, his dark hair shielding his eyes.

Hitsugaya nodded at them, trying to repress the lurch of nausea and guilt in his stomach, and turned his gaze back to the Chief of Police, green glare winking with a hint of ice.

"So? What's your answer?"

The police chief's furred hands curled into tight fists but he growled and stalked forward, unlocking the door to Hitsugaya's cell. Then he fiddled with the keys for a minute and with a soft clink the handcuffs fell to the stone floor. Toushiro's lips quirked on one side, and he rubbed at the reddened skin where the metal had been. Then he nodded at the door.

"Do you want to lock me back in here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The Chief of Police gave him a strange look, then shook his bloodhound head with a resigned sigh, passing the plate to Toushiro.

"We needed to speak with you anyway," he growled out, jowls wobbling. Toushiro shrugged, taking the plate from the policeman's hand and inhaling deeply. No scent of metal or sour chemicals hit his nose. Apparently, they didn't have the foresight to try and slip sedatives into his food the way his officers in Seireitei would for a prisoner of his caliber. Of course, that was probably also illegal here.

He ate quickly, the release of his Bankai the previous night and then his Shikai twice within a 48-hour window drawing on his reserves of energy. He knew that the policemen and the U.A. teachers were startled by his appetite. It was kind of funny, how they stared, and as he finished eating, he glanced up.

"You think my powers come without a cost?" he asked, kicking his feet aimlessly. He set the plate aside, watching as Nedzu's round ears twitched.

"…you burn calories?" the mouse guessed, his even tone of voice obviously locked under a very taut control. Toushiro cocked his head to the side.

"Mm…Not quite. I have reserves of the energy I require to use my techniques. All of my people do. It's this reserve I'm burning through – much like how humans burn through fat stores, I suppose."

The explanation appeared unsatisfying to the genius rodent, but he accepted it without complaint, likely too angry to trust himself to continue speaking. The police chief took this opportunity to interject, his tone suddenly a lot softer. Toushiro groaned, trying to refrain from ripping his hair out.

"Ah, that's right. You're the young man who claims to not be human," the dog-man said. Toushiro bared his teeth in warning, Hyourinmaru rising to coil threateningly in his chest.

"No. I don't _claim_ to be anything. I'm not human. End of discussion."

The frigid growl got the Chief of Police to back off, and Toushiro slid gracefully off the cot in his jail cell, his waraji making no noise at all on the ground. Nedzu's whiskers twitched, his beady eyes narrowing momentarily.

"If you wanted to speak with me, I'd think you'd at least take me to an interrogation room and call a lawyer for me," he drawled, stretching nonchalantly. The younger blonde policeman suddenly stepped into the open doorway of Hitsugaya's cell, hands hovering over the stun-guns attached to his belt.

"…I don't think a lawyer will get you out of a capital murder charge," the man snapped. "You killed a villain on live television, without a license, while he was helpless. In addition, your school friends have been squealing like little songbirds about your plan. Pretty clever of you, faking a fit of panic to convince them to do as you asked."

Hitsugaya went still. He couldn't breathe, his chest frozen, diaphragm paralyzed by that man's words. They thought- what? That he had-? Forced a…

"…I have _never_ faked one of those."

The silence that fell was choking, and Toushiro reached out, painted steel bars stiff and unyielding as he clutched at them. He let out a fractured laugh, squeezing the metal in his hands, wheezing silently as his throat constricted, fuzz or cotton or some other dry, fibrous material sticking to the inside of his windpipe. The blonde stared at him, unconvinced, and Hitsugaya let a slow frost trickle from his fingers onto the painted metal, the reiatsu vents on his wrists leaking.

"Don't you ever accuse me of faking or forcing a flashback again," he said quietly. "I will freely admit that, yes, I did knowingly manipulate my friends. But it was for their safety, and the safety of their future. Aizawa-sensei can attest to their stubbornness. If had told them of my plan prior to arriving in Kamino, it's almost certain they would have protested, and refused to go along with it, and the thought of them placing themselves in danger was unacceptable to me. It was far more appealing to tell them a truth about myself – about one of the things I'd most like to forget – and afterward ask them to trust me with their safety. My fit…it was an unavoidable side effect of trying to talk about what I've experienced."

Then he paused, evaluating the first portion of the blonde policeman's accusing statement. A slight smirk curled his mouth up.

"And, to be quite frank with you regarding the rest of your little tirade, an execution _is_ typically carried out when the criminal in question is helpless," he said casually, eyeing the blonde man with a hint of condescending hauteur. "I don't know how you humans do it anymore, but among my people executions are quite often considered public events – if only to heckle enemies of the state one last time."

He didn't wait for anyone to respond before turning the frost gathering on the bars of his jail cell into spines of glassy ice, frost once again tracing patterns on his cold flesh, the hint of leaking reiatsu obviously pressuring the humans in the station with him. Nedzu and Aizawa both noticeably flinched. Toushiro sighed, then sealed his reiatsu again, smiling coldly at the Chief of Police and the blonde policeman.

"As for the capital murder charge - I think you'll find that according to the laws of my people, I have done nothing wrong. Every charge on my record is due to a lack of human comprehension of my people's capabilities and authority. I do not now, and will not ever, answer to your justice system the way you wish me to."

Aizawa finally broke his long silence, eyes flaring red, his hair whirling up around his ears. His eyes were bloodshot and red, veins straining in his pink-tinged scelera.

"…Hitsugaya-kun, that's enough. Don't dig yourself a deeper hole," he said, staring at his student, unblinking. Toushiro couldn't bring himself to meet that gaze, instead sighing and raising a hand.

"Aizawa-sensei, don't strain your eyes," he said gently, allowing his palm to glow with the icy pale ice-color of his arctic reiatsu. The two policemen stared, gaping in shock. "The powers granted to me by virtue of my species are not the same as my scale-Quirk. You can't stop me – you should know that by now."

Aizawa's hair slowly floated back down, the reddish glow fading from his dark irises. His shoulders slumped down, his characteristic slouch deepening. Carefully, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark-screened phone, the iPhone 7 lookalike that Hitsugaya had been given following its release in the Soul Society.

"…you know, I had hope that you were actually going to stay in the hospital, when I left you there, and you told me about this," the dark-haired teacher sighed, and Toushiro bit his tongue as the Chief of Police put a hand in front of the doorway, the other hand clasped around the handcuffs Toushiro had previously worn. "I trusted you to at least not to lie to my face after I and your classmates made it painfully obvious that we would have rather you stayed put."

Words cut far worse than any blade could when it came to the emotional destabilization that followed such a blow, but Hitsugaya said nothing, placidly allowing the Chief of Police to handcuff him again, wrists chained behind his back. What could he say to that which wouldn't sound dismissive and bitter? It was true that perhaps he was bitter about the amount of pain that various individuals had caused him by shattering his trust, but he wasn't petty enough to spite others that way. And then he remembered what Aizawa had asked of him last week, as they were climbing onto the bus to leave.

 _Have you taught others before, Hitsugaya-kun?_

"I will not apologize for lying to you and everyone else, Aizawa-sensei," he said finally, squaring his shoulders even as he was guided out of the cell and down the hallway. "As I told you in the hospital – I am committed to my people and our cause. Our duty is to protect humans from Hollows at any cost."

Then he glanced back over his shoulder as he was led past where Aizawa and Nedzu stood, lifting his chin high, standing as tall as he would when speaking directly to his division, channeling every inch of the authority he'd crafted and polished during his time in the Tenth Division.

"And you yourself know I have taught others of my kind before," he mused aloud, a piercing gaze fixed on the duo behind him. "What kind of teacher, what kind of _leader_ would I be if I did not practice as I taught?"

Aizawa's dark fringe didn't hide the slight widening of his dark eyes, of the momentary confusion that flitted across his face. But it wasn't him that Hitsugaya was looking at, and he showed a few white teeth as Nedzu's tail curled close to his suit-clad body, ears freezing like they were carved of stone. The beady black eyes blinked once, the realization finally setting in.

Turning his back on the mouse felt slightly vindictive and childish, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd been arguing the same points for a long time now, trying to convince at least the pro-heroes that he wasn't human and that the Hollows were his and _only his_ responsibility. He'd even warned them that All-for-One was someone he could kill under Gotei 13 laws. But nobody had listened. He'd been ignored – told to sit back and wait because it wasn't legal for him to _follow his people's law._ And this was the result.

It seemed that he'd have to go with the contingency plan, then. Oh well.

"Aizawa-sensei, you may want to bring my phone with you," he called pleasantly over his shoulder, head tossed nonchalantly back as he was escorted away. He heard Aizawa grumble, striding after him and his police escort with long steps, and then the soft skitter of Nedzu's sneakers on the concrete, slightly uneven. Toushiro couldn't stop the arrogant smirk from settling firmly on his face. It would have been much simpler for the U.A. and the pro-heroes to just deal with a lost teenager scarred by human experimentation and charged with eliminating the experimental mistakes. But no. Everyone had to make things difficult.

And so, they'd be dealing with Hitsugaya Toushiro, Captain of the Tenth Division of the Gotei 13, two-time war veteran suffering severe PTSD, child prodigy of his people, and Chief of Seireitei's Internal Investigation division. Bless their poor souls.

As Hitsugaya was showed into a white-painted room with a large mirror on one wall, and a table and chair complete with leather restraints, he bared a slightly feral smile at the police chief and the plain-looking man who would apparently be interrogating him. The man, who was wearing a black suit, raised an eyebrow at him, apparently unimpressed with his haughtiness.

"Do sit down. My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa. I'll be talking to you today, Hitsugaya-kun."

Toushiro shrugged, absently identifying all the people on the other side of the two-way mirror. Aizawa, Nedzu, All Might, Cementoss, Midnight, Recovery Girl – well, they were certainly taking precautions. Either that, or they were all genuinely worried about him. Perhaps a mix of both, he mused.

"I'd prefer to stand, thanks," he replied politely, still smirking. Tsukauchi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if entirely fed up with the entire situation.

"That wasn't exactly a request, Hitsugaya-kun," he clarified, and Toushiro couldn't help but chuckle, green eyes flashing brightly.

"You _do_ realize that the only reason I'm here at the moment is due to my voluntary compliance, do you not?" he asked pleasantly, arching a brow at the plain-faced man, channeling ice and frost over the steel links binding his hands together. Brittle metal would be much easier to break. "This is not an arrest, as you and the heroes seem to think it is. This is a gesture of my goodwill, which can at any point be revoked, and you would be absolutely helpless against me. Or did you miss All-for-One's execution?"

Tsukauchi didn't break eye contact, his dark stare shimmering slightly, but his lips did press into a thin line even as the dog-like police chief growled and attempted to shove him forward. Toushiro laughed outright as the dog-man bounced off, unable to move him even the slightest bit – he'd loosed just a touch of reiatsu before the man had made contact.

The use of his reiatsu to back up his threats and solidfy his position wasn't an ideal tactic, as it did expose the humans to his powers, but hopefully the careful control would help prevent the spread of spiritual abilities. The last thing he needed were the humans here developing Fullbring powers on top of their Quirks and then figuring out how to fight Hollows properly.

He already had enough to deal with, now that the Hollows and some mysterious character had allied themselves with human villains in this new dimension.

"Don't bother – you'll only hurt yourself," he sneered nonchalantly. "Normal matter barely can bruise me without a fair amount of strength behind it."

The plain-faced man assigned to interrogate him narrowed his eyes.

"…It almost sounds like you're threatening us, Hitsugaya Toushiro," he warned, his voice respectably even. He was doing a marvelous job of keeping his temper, Hitsugaya noted absently, though the slow pulse of a purpling vein close by his left ear betrayed his rising annoyance. Toushiro quirked his mouth in response to the question.

"I'm done playing nice with you humans since none of you will _listen_ to me," he sighed finally. "Tell me – prior to this particular episode on live television, the police department, your government, and the professional hero syndicate believed me to be a lost teenage boy suffering PTSD as a result of undergoing experimentation at some point in the past. Furthermore, I am no longer human – or I at least claim that – and I am convinced that I have been given orders to destroy creatures known as 'Hollows' which I will not allow humans to fight. All matching your records so far, correct?"

Tsukauchi folded his hands on the table and shook his head.

"I hardly see how this relates to the issue at-"

"Answer the damn question or I start breaking shit," Toushiro interjected, eyes narrowing to thin slits of green. "Starting with your fingers. I'm not a pathetic lost child, and I'm going to explain all the lies in little words to you, so get off your damn high horse and suck it up before I _make_ you."

There was a moment of silence, and when nobody spoke Hitsugaya cracked the frozen chain with the sudden heat of Kido and wrenched his hands apart, grunting with the effort it took to snap the frosted steel. There was a deafening screech as the metal ripped apart, a single link clanging harshly off the stone walls as it snapped off and richocheted. Tsukauchi let out a rickety breath, and the canine police chief pulled out a taser, poised to fire it. But Toushiro stayed perfectly still, hands white-knuckled at his sides, the broken handcuffs dangling from his wrists.

"Answer me," he demanded, gaze burning. Tsukauchi swallowed hard, gaze traveling momentarily to the mirror. Hitsugaya laughed coldly.

"Oh, don't look to him for help – All Might is too soft to be able to stop me," he sneered. "It's not his fault – he's only human, after all. Now, Midnight probably could if she took me by surprise, given her power, but I'm on guard against toxic aerosols at the moment, so don't count on her for a rescue either."

Tsukauchi started at the assertion, dark eyes widening.

"…you're not lying," he breathed, "You genuinely believe you could defeat All Might."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. Wow. What a concept. He knew that people hero-worshipped the guy, and he didn't see too much of a problem with that considering that All Might was a kindhearted soul who didn't use that to his advantage. But it did have the unfortunate side effect of giving everyone tunnel vision considering strength.

"Without breaking a sweat, though I'd probably have a few very nice shiners and a sprain for my trouble," he confirmed in a lazy drawl, noting the peculiar wording present in Tsukauchi's gasp of shock. "…you seem remarkably willing to take me at my word for it, though – care to explain that?"

Tsukauchi's laced-together fingers came apart, and his nose wrinkled up on one side, the vein in his temple pulsing again. The faintest hint of a nervous, sweaty stench started to circulate in the concrete room, and Toushiro had to bite his tongue on the disparaging words that wanted to crawl up his throat. While it might be true that he was done playing along and attempting some sort of compliance, he wasn't out to be directly harmful, and riling the humans up this early in the game would prove counterproductive.

"…My Quirk is called 'Human Lie Detector,' and it allows me to tell if a person is lying simply by looking at and focusing on them. It also works when I'm not looking directly at them, but it's usually less clear," Tsukauchi revealed finally, and Toushiro blinked, not expecting such a simple – and perfect – method for lie detection. A faintly wistful smile spread across his face unbidden, and he sighed.

"Oh, that's convenient," Toushiro sighed. He needed a Quirk like that in his Division. It would make the criminal investigations he monitored _much_ easier to work through. "Now, can you answer my earlier question? I'm finally going to tell you as much of the truth as I can – although, technically, I don't believe I've directly lied to any of you yet."

Tsukauchi evaluated him for a moment longer than was necessary, dark gaze searching for something in his face, and finally the Chief of Police – who was in the room still, frozen with his taser raised – spoke up, his voice a low bark.

"Tsukauchi-kun?"

The plain-faced man slowly stood up, the dark suit he wore smoothing out as he did so. He swallowed uncomfortably, looking distinctly on edge.

"…Hitsugaya-kun, please answer me truthfully," he said then, his voice quiet. "Can you confirm, based only on your own knowledge and experience and excluding anything you have been taught, that you are not human?"

Hitsugaya grinned, teeth flashing white, eyes glowing pale blue around the edges of his iris.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he smirked. "Yes, I can confirm that I'm not human based on those terms."

There was another long moment of silence and then, slowly, Tsukauchi took a very noticeable step away, color draining from his cheeks like water from a kitchen sink. He swallowed hard, obviously now very nervous and more than a little frightened. Then he let out a long breath.

"Your earlier assertions match our records," he said, "Save for the addendum that we were under the impression you were a brainwashed human child."

Hitsugaya laughed at that, then took a few steps forward and sat down calmly in the chair meant for him, resting his elbows on the table nonchalantly. The broken handcuffs dangled from his wrists, and Hitsugaya wove his fingers together in front of his face with a sigh, resting his chin on top of his hands. Tsukauchi froze, and the police chief let out a low growl of startled shock.

"Do sit down, Tsukauchi-kun."

The echo of Tsukauchi's previous words was intentional, and Hitsugaya knew that the pros and policemen had realized what he was doing. He let the smirks and feral amusement evaporate like water on a hot day, the icy steel of his authoritative cloak and frigid disregard for his prey dropping the room's temperature by several degrees. Tsukauchi flinched visibly, staring.

"…you're doing this on purpose," he said slowly. "Manipulating the situation to suit your needs."

Hitsugaya flicked a wrist lightly and raised an eyebrow in chilly askance, scraping the sole of his waraji on the concrete floor as he did so.

"You're fifty years too young to challenge me in a battle of psychological manipulation," he sighed finally, lifting his chin off the woven platform his fingers made. "The effort is there, but I know every trick in the book and then some. Furthermore, I hold all the cards. You're depending on my voluntary cooperation to avoid mass injury and destruction, as well as my ability to destroy the Hollows that seem to be allying themselves with your human villains. Charge me with capital murder, third-degree murder, and vigilantism if you so please. But there's nothing you can do to prevent me from fulfuilling the oaths I swore. The only choice you and your government and pro-heroes have is to either acquiesce to my demands in private and emerge from this madness with an ally, or to refuse every word out of my mouth and watch as I wreak havoc on your systems as a villain. Because at the end of the day, you can't stop me. And I _will_ get what I want."

His haori rustled softly as he relaxed, the tension sliding out of his shoulders, and he closed his eyes, still sitting neatly at the table. Tsukauchi's breathing was quick and shallow, a slight whistle echoing from between the man's lips. Hitsugaya sighed.

"Tsukauchi-san, I'm offering my cooperation," he said gently, "I…will admit to this being a plan I did not wish to resort to, but I will tell you everything I can about my people and our law. Up until this point I have refused to answer a great many of your questions, and have allowed you – or rather, Nedzu-sensei, who seems to tbe the only one with some intelligence around here – to draw your own conclusions from my refusals and half-truths. If you wish to listen, I can disavow any of the false conclusions I led you to. Obviously, some of what I can access for you will be doctored to avoid revealing sensitive information, but it's the best I can offer."

He leaned forward, unlacing his fingers to rest his hands lightly on the table, a shiver traveling down his spine. Kyoraku would understand – hopefully – what he was about to do. And if not – well. The Maggot's Nest would be unpleasant, but it wouldn't be likely that Kyoraku would keep him there long, at least.

Tsukauchi seemed to realize the importance of this offer, and again, Hitsugaya found himself thankful for the other man's Quirk. Then Tsukauchi squinted tellingly at him, lips pressed together in a thin line.

"…If you really are strong enough to bulldoze your way through any resistance we can muster, why are you offering to cooperate?"

Hitsugaya blinked at the sudden suspicion, musing over the question thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he felt the everpresent swell of his arrogance deflate into humility, and he curled his hands into fists.

"…My people are sworn to protect the human race from threats they cannot handle – with the sole exceptions being disease, self-inflicted wars, and natural disasters," he said softly. "If my hand was forced, I would end up crippling many of you, perhaps permanently, and I do not want to cause unnecessary harm."

Then he felt his throat close up as Aizawa's weak human reiatsu flickered faintly behind the two-way mirror, and he sucked in a suddenly ragged breath, emotion thick on his tongue. Suddenly he remembered what he'd said to Aizawa in the hospital earlier this same day. Guilt washed over him anew, raking clawed hands through his hair and across his face.

"And…and I've betrayed enough people today," he forced out through gritted teeth, blinking rapidly stop the prickling of his eyes. "I've done enough harm to people I care about in my life – I won't add to it if I can help it."

Tsukauchi gazed at him steadily, the spike of fear fading from his posture, and slowly he walked back over to the table and sat down, reaching into his pocket and pulling an unopened packet of tissues out, placing them on the table. Hitsugaya tried not to react to the gesture, but it struck at him in a way he hadn't been expecting.

"Hitsugaya-kun…how old are you? In terms of the corresponding human age, that is?"

Toushiro dropped his gaze to the metal table, his knuckles still white. He knew what Tsukauchi was asking, and while it could help his overall case, it could also drastically hurt it. But refusing to answer, lying, or telling the truth would all give Tsukauchi the answer he wanted. It was impossible to back out of this question safely – he'd have to hope the answer would help these humans take him seriously.

"…you're asking if I'm still considered a child in terms of my species?" he asked softly. Then he shook his head. "My people care little for age where power is concerned. If a seven-year old – in human terms, that is – has the mental and physical capability to defend and fight, then oftentimes they are forced to do exactly that."

He looked up then, slowly unclenching his hands.

"I was no exception. I'm still not an exception," he answered. "My people all look human, for the most part, and the human age we appear to be – in my case, fifteen – is proportionally comparable to my actual age among my people. But it has little bearing on my ability to negotiate, make decisions, and engage in battle. Does this answer your question?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Tsukauchi reached across the table and very, very gently folded his hands around Toushiro's closed fists, slowly uncurling stiff fingers. Toushiro let him, feeling the slight and overwhelming tremble of emotion wrap a choking noose around his throat. Then, with only a brief glance at the police chief, the broken handcuffs were very carefully unlocked from Toushiro's wrists. Hitsugaya held his breath, eyes widening slowly, implicitly understanding the gesture.

"Chief, I don't think any kid – regardless of species, human or not – should be forced into villainy so early," Tsukauchi's tone was plain, but firm. "Especially a kid suffering Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – even if he's some kind of alien warrior."

Hitsugaya could hear his own breathing echoing in the chilly room, harsh and thick with upset and he closed his eyes, the pregnant silence sitting heavily on his shoulders. Then the bloodhound head bobbed, jowls flopping around with the movement, and the chief groaned.

"…I suppose I'll call the Ministry of Defense, then," he said with a sigh, turning a soulful puppy gaze on Toushiro. "Dealing with an alien species…should probably not be handled at this level of government."

The air rushed out of his lungs in a huge gale of relief and Toushiro folded forward, hands still caught by Tsukauchi. He chuckled weakly, relief cutting the adrenaline in his blood in half.

"Thank god," he wheezed, "Aizawa-sensei has my phone. It's not actually just a phone – it's a complex piece of my people's technology. Whenever you're ready, bring it in here and I'll use my security clearance to access the information database for you. The only condition I have is that I have to stay in the room. My unique signature is required to unlock it."

The chief nodded, obviously understanding the underlying motive of monitoring what information they'd be able to extract, and he turned toward the door, sliding it open with an easy pull.

"I'll return shortly."

* * *

 **The next chapter will be slightly exposition-heavy, but there's some decent plot development, so hopefully you will like it! Tell me what you think of this one in the box below!**


	29. Captain's Privilege

**A/N:** **Guess who's back!**

 **THANK YOU FOR 1,000 FAVORITES OMG I'M CRYING LASDHASKJDFASDFASDG**

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 **So, updates are still probably going to be fairly slow for this fic. It's reaching beastly proportions, and I'm currently working on several published fics at the same time, including my Hunter x Hunter AU, _Seeking Petrichor_ , and my A03-only Bleach fic, _Smells Like Peppermint_. In addition, I am also an admin for the Bleach Big Bang, which has been eating up my time recently.**

 **Also, to that one anon who asked about me writing the HxH/Bnha crossover - See the A/N at the bottom, please. My response is touch long to be up here.**

* * *

The interrogation room's door was bolted back into place, the ominous _kathunk_ of steel clanking against concrete echoing in the small room. Toushiro paid it no mind. If the worst-case scenario did come to pass, Shakkaho should be able to blast a hole in the two-way glass, at least, if not the door itself. Or he could cast the Bakudo that allowed his reishi to disassociate enough that he could pass through solid objects. There were plenty of things he could do if this all went wrong.

He'd prefer if he didn't have to resort to assuming the worst, though.

Another hour or so passed in relative silence. Toushiro put his head down on the table, on top of his folded arms, absently allowing himself to doze. Tsukauchi stayed with him, seated in the chair opposite with his phone in his hand. Aizawa and Nedzu both left the observation room at some point, most likely to chew out Midoriya and the others, but returned within a short while.

And then the door opened again, and the police chief strode back in followed by two men in dark suits and a burly woman with green glasses and a white lab coat. Aizawa trailed these three, the slim Soul Phone clenched tightly in one fist, and Nedzu was at his side, beady eyes narrow with suspicion. Each of the newcomers brought a chair with them, plastic folding chairs. Nothing fancy. Toushiro waited patiently while they seated themselves, watching keenly as the men in suits withdrew handguns from their pockets and held them up.

"The Chief of Police has informed us of your intent to cooperate, but please know that we are authorized to eliminate any threat to our safety."

The speaker was the brunette agent, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses and hair neatly coiffed. His older, grey-bearded partner, said nothing. Toushiro rolled his shoulders carelessly, eyeing the weapons with interest. Handguns. Not bad. Being shot wouldn't kill him – his reiatsu should be able to prevent a bullet from going too deep into his flesh – but it would definitely hurt like a bitch. And if they caught him off guard, before he could gather his reiatsu to ward off the worst of the impact, a bullet could do some serious damage.

"Understandable. You two are the smartest I've encountered thus far, defense-wise," he commented lightly. He'd managed to rein in his breathless relief in the hour he'd spent waiting, but the humming undercurrent of nervous energy was still threaded through his pulse, so he kept his voice soft. "A bullet wouldn't match my speed should I be moving, but if you catch me off guard it's your best chance at injuring me."

The two men in suits blinked in surprise at the backhanded compliment, as did the burly woman in the lab coat, but after a moment the elder shook the shock off and turned to Tsukauchi, quickly asking for the use of his Quirk, and then to Aizawa, asking him to set the phone down on the table. Hitsugaya watched quietly, lacing his fingers together beneath his chin as the government agents set themselves up. It didn't take long.

The grey-haired man broke the silence.

"We have been informed that you are, simply put, a juvenile non-human lifeform," the grey-haired man said, obviously skeptical. The wavering looks he kept shooting Tsukauchi, however, said otherwise. Hitsugaya stayed perfectly still. "And on top of this, you are here to…hunt down another species of non-human lifeform that preys on humans?"

Hitsugaya ducked his head a little bit and took a deep breath. Time to come clean.

"Not exactly, but close," he said, without blinking an eye. "In truth, I have no mission assigned to me by my superiors here – only a set of ironclad laws that I am acting in accordance with as problems that I am responsible for arise. At the root of it all though…I'm stranded."

He saw the surprise pass across Aizawa's face at the same time as Nedzu leaned forward, mouse paws pressing into the steel table top. The mouse principal looked distinctly wary of him now, a healthy respect forming in that beady gaze. Toushiro smiled a bit.

"While it may sound incredible to you, my people have been able to facilitate interdimensional travel for thousands of years now," he revealed, knuckles starting to whiten as he ventured into territory that he hadn't yet covered with the UA teachers. "However, three or four months ago – I'm starting to lose track – I fell through a spontaneous, interdimensional Einstein-Rosen bridge and arrived in this dimension. I have no way to return home at this time, and I believe that the most likely cause of this sudden interdimensional portal was some Quirk in this world. In order to facilitate my exit from this dimension – which was previously unknown to my people – I allowed myself to be placed at UA Academy, which had resources I was previously unable to access. And then Hollows began arriving in this dimension. I suspect that my presence in your world is holding open the dimensional tear and allowing the Hollows to cross over here behind me. I am thereby solely responsible for eradicating them. Furthermore, Hollows are my people's responsibility, even in my home dimensions, and I cannot allow human interference with this misson."

Tsukauchi stared. And slowly, all eyes turned to him. He shook his head, hands shaking.

"…there wasn't an ounce of dishonesty in what he just said."

The government agents looked stricken, but the burly woman in the lab coat leaned forward, peering over the top of her green glasses.

"So, you're a stranded interdimensional traveling alien, are you?" she summarized, "And because of this dimensional portal, the more unsavory creatures from your world are bleeding into ours?"

Hitsugaya nodded, biting down on his lower lip, his calves pressing back against the legs of the chair as hard as he could.

"Unfortunately so." His voice was hoarse, the grim tone enough to make the houndlike Chief of Police growl slightly. "Hollows prey on humans, and in a world where my people don't exist…there's no predator above them. The more evolved, intelligent Hollows seem to have formed alliances with your world's villains in order to gain a foothold in this world – a platform they can return to after devouring their victims. However, humans lack the ability to fight Hollows, for the sole reason that Hollows, like myself, don't have bodies made up of the same, normal matter that you're used to dealing with. We're not bound by the laws of physics – at least, not in the same way – and so I can't allow humans to do anything more in this kind of situation other than act as informants. You're easy prey otherwise."

Nedzu's paws squeaked as they slid back on the table.

"And you cannot give us these powers without facing serious repercussion from your people," the mouse said, eyes narrowing. Toushiro sighed, once agains biting his lower lip.

"…the precedent is execution or torture and imprisonment, depending on the severity of the offense, the situation in which the power transfer was conducted in, and the identity of the perpetrator," he said hesitantly, offering the bait for the highly intelligent mouse to take. Nedzu's beady eyes narrowed – he obviously knew that Hitsugaya was fishing for questions. But he bit anyway.

"There's a but in that statement, isn't there Hitsugaya-kun?"

Toushiro sighed heavily.

"Yes, in a sense," he groaned. "But it's difficult to explain without discussing the inner workings of my society and our power structure."

The two government agents glanced over at Nedzu, then exchanged a long, meaningful look in which there was much head craning and raised eyebrows. Toushiro would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. Finally, the younger brunette tapped a sharp grey fingernail on the steel table.

"…well, to be frank with you, kid," the brunette said slowly, "We will need to know about your societal structure. The Ministry of Defense and the Prime Minister are unsure of how to deal with you, given your apparent youth. We need to know if your words will hold any weight in any future dealings with your people. From what you've already said, it sounds at least as if you're a part of your people's military…?"

Hitsugaya nodded, then pointed at his Soul Phone.

"Someone, please open my phone for me," he said calmly. "I'm going to demonstrate a little of my people's technology for you."

There was some hesitancy for a moment, and then Aizawa picked the small device up and pressed the power button, waiting for the screen to light up. Then he slid his finger across the screen.

"…It looks like a normal smartphone to me. You even have one of those Flappy Bird game apps on here," one of the agents said, leaning over Aizawa's shoulder. Hitsugaya tried not to grin – he still couldn't get over how cool the latest Soul Phone was.

"Of course it looks like a normal phone to you. It's keyed to my signature. May I?"

After a general consensus, Aizawa placed the phone in Hitsugaya's hands. And Toushiro tapped the screen twice, turning it white, and set his fingertips in the center of the touchscreen. A tinge of his reiatsu licked at the glowing white background.

"Voice override. Hitsugaya Toushiro," he said clearly. "Security clearance Alpha. Information level: Emergency."

The phone beeped twice, and then the screen lit up with the Gotei 13's distinct rhombus. A cool female voice rang through the speaker, only a touch tinny in the small concrete room.

 _~"Reiatsu signature: Match. Access Authorized. Information level: Emergency, is currently accessible."~_ the AI's modulated voice was distinctly similar to the late Captain Unohana's, soft and soothing with a hint of iron. Several gasps came from the group supposed to be interrogating him, and he grinned a little bit, unable to stop himself from feeling just a touch giddy.

"Engage holographic menu," he commanded, and set the phone down on the table. The rear-facing camera lit up in blue, then projected a three-dimensional web of light into the air, several menus popping up. Hitsugaya skimmed them quickly, bypassing the Mission Reports, Hollow-Locator, and Basic Information: Individual tabs in favor of selecting a separate one.

"Basic Information: Society," he said, and the chosen tab glowed yellow for a second before the holographic projection shifted, now displaying several other tabs including, Overview, Schooling and Economy, Government, and Geography. The agents looked on, transfixed by the projection.

"Government," one of the agents said then, immediately zeroing in on their desired information. Then the phone beeped once.

 _~"Unfamiliar Voice Command Registered. Please Authorize."~_

Toushiro leveled a flat glare at the agent and raised an eyebrow. The man dropped his gaze, looking sheepish.

"It responds to my personal energy signature, you know," he said, slightly irritated, returning his attention to the phone in his hand. "Temporary Authorization granted. Engage supplementary images and text."

The phone obeyed, and Hitsugaya steepled his fingers.

"My home is a feudal military society, for lack of a better explanation," he said easily, and the hologram shifted to show a picture of the Seireitei. "The central city, Seireitei, is ruled by the Gotei 13, with nominal and ceremonial oversight from a now-defunct body of judges and scholars called Central 46. This body used to have the power to stand against our military, but following two mass assassinations it has lost much of its power. It retains enough to force singular issues, such as the executions of criminals or the passage of minor laws, but beyond this it is dependent upon the Gotei 13."

The image shifted, transitioning to something like a rank-structure chart, and Hitsugaya glanced at it briefly before continuing.

"The Gotei 13 itself is the most powerful of three military branches. The other two, the Kidoshuu and the Onmitsukido, have more specialized roles, thus limiting their power. The Onmitsukido is also headed by the Captain of the Second Division, and thus is intricately bound to the Gotei 13 as well," he continued. "The only body of influence able to sway the Gotei 13 on large-scale policy would be the noble clans – specifically the Four Great Noble houses, which are renowned for their wealth and their consistent membership in the ranks of the Gotei 13. Our King technically could as well, but he is nothing more than a figurehead and has little bearing on military decisions or martial law."

Nedzu leaned forward, examining the chart with interest.

"So, according to this picture here, it looks like your military is divided into thirteen different divisions?" the mouse said. "And within each division there is a very clear chain of command established by rank and seniority, ending with the foot soldiers."

Hitsugaya nodded, affirming the mouse's observation.

"Yes. Each division typically has twenty 'seated' ranks, numbered from one to twenty. Multiple individuals will share lower-ranked positions, usually numbered Tenth Seat and below, and the most senior within each rank group will be in charge of their juniors," he explained. "Each seated officer can command anyone lower in rank than them, but they will typically be assigned to lead a squadron of unseated soldiers up until around Tenth or Eleventh Seat, where administrative duties will start to take precedence and their squadrons will consist of lower-seated officers – and subsequently the subordinates those lower seated officers have command of."

Nedzu's paw slid up then, hovering over the top of the chart, where thirteen different markers sat.

"Then, the 'first seat' of each division…?"

"That's the Captain," Hitsugaya confirmed. "Captains have incredible power, both politically-speaking and in combat. They're directly assisted by the Lieutenant, who occupies the 'second seat' rank of each division, but the power gap between them can be be incredible, and Lieutenants are – on average – already powerful enough to defeat the rest of the Seated Officers below them simultaneously, except perhaps the Third and Fourth Seats. And the head of the First Division is the Captain-Commander. He has nominal control over the other twelve captains, and in times of crisis he has the authority to issue orders to them. But typically in peacetime the Captain-Commander acts more as a moderator. Captains can be very prickly and standoffish with each other, and when you give one of those individuals an entire Division that is absolutely loyal to their leader…well, things can get unpleasant, and quickly. The Captain-Commander maintains law and order between each of the thirteen divisions, and frankly, his job is an unenviable one. If he did not have the Captains' confidence and loyalty, civil war would be commonplace."

The two government agents let out huge sighs of exhaustion. Hitsugaya didn't really blame them. Seireitei's political intricacies were obnoxious, and he _lived_ there. Then the elder of the two leaned forward, a grave look in his eye then.

"Son, you said you were involved with your people's military. Do you have a rank?"

Oh, they wanted to know that, did they? Hitsugaya smiled, a touch playfully, glancing up at the chart projected by his Soul Phone.

"Yes, I do, actually," he said. "Try to guess, why don't you? I want to see what I look like to you. I'm in the Tenth Division if you were wondering. Beyond wartime reconnaissance and special operations, our primary peacetime specialization is internal investigation – basically policework and criminal prosecution for the Seireitei."

He ignored the sharp look from Nedzu – the mouse already had figured it out, so that didn't count, and focused on the two agents, genuinely curious. The elder regarded him carefully for a moment, then glanced up at the chart.

"…I'm going to guess that you're probably fairly high up, given your confidence. Perhaps you're one of the Fifteenth Seat ranks?" he guessed. Toushiro tried not to growl at that, feeling mildly insulted. But his amusement won out, and so he turned, glancing at the rest.

"Any other guesses before I confirm anything?" he asked, lips quirked on one side. The lab-coat wearing lady blinked at him.

"I'll bite," she said bracingly. "How about Eleventh Seat?"

Better than Fifteenth, he supposed, but still a little irritating. He glanced at the others, but they shook their heads, obviously unwilling to indulge him, and he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Is that what you hope, or what you genuinely believe?" he asked then, narrowing his eyes carefully. The two agents exchanged long looks, allowing the woman in the lab coat to speak up again, looking slightly sheepish.

"Perhaps a bit of both," she groaned, but Toushiro had to appreciate her honesty. "The higher your rank, the easier it will be for us to trust that your word will hold whenever your people come into contact with us. Can you at least verify that the Captain of the Tenth – your captain – will honor your word?"

Toushiro felt a rumble of amusement purr deep in his chest, Hyourinmaru's mirth seeping across the physical distance. One corner of his mouth quirked as he attempted to hide the twitching of his lips. But dutifully, he turned his attention back onto the pared-down schematic of the Tenth Division's power structure and gently tapped the icon at the top that represented the captain.

"You can decide that yourself. Soldier Profile: Tenth Division Captain."

The phone chirped awkwardly for a moment, obviously halted by something. The humans leaned in, the two agents setting their elbows on the table even as Aizawa leaned away. Nedzu looked vaguely irritated by the whole charade, and Hitsugaya spared him a sympathetic eye roll.

 _~"Requested Soldier Profile contains classified data requiring Security Clearance: Alpha. Redact classified information in accordance with Emergency Information protocols?"~_

Hitsugaya sighed and authorized it, then watched slowly as his own image was rendered in the bluish holographic light, his most recent patient reports from the Fourth Division littered with starred words popping up beneath his picture. There was a short silence, his rank typed neatly beneath his name, division affiliation, Zanpakutou name, and blood type. Then he lifted his gaze, all trace of cheer gone.

"Only a captain is authorized to wear a white haori with their division number on its back," he said lowly, eyes blazing, well aware of the white haori hanging from his shoulders at that very moment. "…Is it now making sense, why I would not yield? Why I insist upon acting on my own? Why I cannot lend any of my power to you? I have a division to command, to lead. How could I possibly justify such a crime to them when I am whole and hale?"

Tsukauchi turned a searching gaze on him, pale as a sheet of printer paper.

"You're one of the thirteen captains of your people," he murmured. "and you're…not even fully grown? You're suffering from PTSD?"

Hitsugaya bared his teeth at the reminders, growling low in his throat. That had _not_ been what he'd wanted them to focus on, but perhaps it was best to get it out of the way before any more egregious errors or insults took place.

"I have lived through two wars and several near-death experiences, all at an age much younger than I am now," he snarled. "I don't need your _human pity_. What's done to me is done, and _I_ will deal with the fallout."

There was another pregnant pause, and then Toushiro's eyes narrowed to thin slits of green. He pressed one palm flat to the table, frost tracing curlicues from his fingertips.

"So," he said coldly. "I can, to some extent, make my own laws, as I did when I executed All-For-One for his crimes against the human race and my own people. After all, convicting a Captain of the Gotei 13 of any crime and forcing punishment on them is extremely difficult unless it it glaringly obvious. For instance, one of my fellow captains is, simply put, a mad scientist with few, if any, morals. He has been responsible for the mysterious death and disappearance of many of his own subordinates, and has repeatedly conducted experiments on humanoid subspecies. However, he is the Captain of the Twelfth Division, and thus rarely faces repercussions for his actions."

Nedzu's round ears suddenly slid forward. The mouse's whiskers drooped as well, mimicking the sinking sensation in Hitsugaya's gut as he realized just what he'd inadvertently revealed to the mouse.

"…He was not punished for what he did to you?"

Toushiro felt his mouth go dry, the air suddenly thin and deoxygenating at a rapid pace. His knuckles went white on the edge of the table. Aizawa's dark eyes slid from his paling face to Nedzu's twitching paws, then back again. The realization was setting in. Why would Nedzu _ask_ that question? Why _now_ , of all times, when he needed to be thinking clearly?

"…It was necessary. I don't know if he realized I was awake through all of it, but he knew I was conscious for certain portions…not that he cared," Hitsugaya finally breathed, clutching vainly at the metal table. "…He was applauded for his efforts, and I thanked him."

Nedzu's large front teeth squeaked slightly as they ground together, anger darkening the mouse's beady stare into sunken pits. Aizawa's gaze flashed uncontrollably red, on and off. Tsukauchi looked between Hitsugaya and his two teachers, budding horror in his eyes. Aizawa turned a ferocious stare on Tsukauchi.

"He's lying," Aizawa snarled. Tsukauchi slowly shook his head.

"…No, he's not."

There was a pregnant pause, and then one of the government agents leaned forward, looking mildly intrigued by the conversation.

"Would someone explain what the conversation is about?" the grey-bearded man said. Hitsugaya's breath caught in his chest, an invisible pillow pressing over his airways. The cold tickle of a needle brushed over the side of his throat. Kurotsuchi's disembodied voice echoed coldly in the white interrogation room – it was _white_ , of course it was white, just like that lab where he'd been- No, no, _shit_ -

 _Hitsugaya-taicho, I have some medicine I'd like you to try. Don't worry – It's all for the sake of Soul Society!_

 _So stubborn, Hitsugaya-taicho. Relax, and this will all be over before you know it._

"…his initial story to explain the Hollows and his own trauma was that he was previously human but had been subject to experimentation and was altered into something different that allowed him to fight Hollows. Now…now we know it's not entirely a lie – and that the perpetrator was a colleague of his."

The voice was Nedzu's, strained and thin, helpless anger simmering in that squeak even as it was drowned out by the cacophony of Kurotsuchi's machines. Toushiro clung to the distinct sound, staring down at the metal of the table, trying desperately to block everything out except reality. He couldn't afford for this to happen now, couldn't afford this kind of weakness when he needed all his wits about him.

His lungs ached for air he couldn't breathe, and he crumpled facedown, pressing his forehead to the interrogation table, grinding his teeth. It was blessedly cold, so unlike the fiery venom that Kurotsuchi had injected into him, so unlike the burning agony wreaking havoc on his body.

"Hitsugaya-kun, stay with us. Come on, now,"

Aizawa's voice, broken with aimless fury and reluctant concern, shattered the pounding in his head. Hitsugaya gasped for breath. It wasn't as bad this time. He could break through, he was still aware of his surroudings. There hadn't been a major trigger. Just enough to pull up the panic and vivid memories to bubble just beneath the surface. Just enough to knock him off balance.

"He saved my life," he wheezed, unsure of why he was defending Kurotsuchi when the man had done far more than simply reverse Giselle's zombification. He'd been in non-stop agony, had tubes and wires shoved into his body as the poisons were flushed and reintroduced to his system on repeat for _hours_ \- _no_ , stop _remembering_ -

"Son of a- someone _talk!_ " The cry was strangled, a plaintive demand, but as his voice broke like glass on stone it didn't seem to matter.

"…I spoke to Midoriya and the others earlier about your plan on retrieving Bakugo, Hitsugaya-kun," the voice was Aizawa's, kept frighteningly even in spite of how upset he'd just sounded. "Why did you allow them to accompany you to Kamino?"

Okay. Okay, he could focus on that. Kamino. Why did he let Midoriya come to Kamino with him?

"…he would have gone anyway," Toushiro breathed finally, sliding his head into his hands and forcing chilled reiatsu to prick at his fingertips, cool enough to remind him of where he was. The fiery phantom pain and flashing surgical lights eased away. "Better he and the others stay with me and under watch than roam on their own."

Aizawa hummed a low, growly hum of understanding, and though his eyes were closed Hitsugaya knew that the dark-haired man had either gripped the table or had clenched his fists until veins popped in the soft underbelly of his forearms.

"And your flashback on the train that Iida-kun spoke of – that was a side-effect of trying to explain your requirement for their absolute trust?"

The flashback on the train. He'd forced it, hadn't he, forced himself into confronting it so he could tell a bunch of teenagers that he'd die before hurting anyone he cared about again? How hypocritical, when he'd hurt them with nothing but his own scheming and lying.

Well. At least they weren't dead.

"Yes." The words came easier this time, his heart rate slowing somewhat. Guilt pressed at the back of his throat, sticky like tar. "I…I needed them to trust me for their own safety. I knew they would protest – even mutiny – if I explained that I planned to swap myself with Bakugo, for the simple reason that they think I am their equal. I…I appreciate their concern, truly, but there was no time to explain that I've seen more war than anyone here, no time to- to explain who I am…what I am. And if I had explained myself…there is no guarantee they would have believed me."

The room fell silent then, and he took several deep, slow breaths in an attempt to redirect his focus. It seemed to work, the fluttering adrenaline buzzing through his whole body draining away. He lifted his head out of his hands, ignoring the continuous trembling of his fingers.

The fluorescent lights were sharp and unpleasant, but at least he was seeing those and not the shadow-erasing glare of Kurotsuchi's labs.

"Well, regardless of the methodology you used to carry out your plan," one of the government agents said finally. "…you still killed someone in cold blood, a crime which was televised live. We can't let you walk free without inciting public outcry."

Hitsugaya's gaze narrowed. So, as he'd suspected. The government needed to save face. An understandable dilemma, one Seireitei usually tackled with gag orders, burned records, and assassinations.

Obviously, the same couldn't be said for a world of heroes.

"I executed All-for-One under my authority as the Captain of the Tenth Division for illegal human experimentation, striking an alliance with Hollows, and stepping foot into my people's realm of jurisdiction without prior permission," he kept his voice even, steeling himself for the possibility that he may have to resort to violence in order to accomplish his duty as a shinigami. "I will not allow any sort of punishment that would hinder my progress in my mission to eradicate the growing Hollow presence in your world or in my eventual mission to return to my home."

The humans all shifted in their seats – all save Nedzu, who was gazing steadily at Hitsugaya with his whiskers twitching.

"So then." The mouse was clearly trying not to bare the exceptionally long teeth he usually kept out of sight in his smile. "You have us cornered, do you not? You will not share the ability to destroy Hollows, and you will not bend to our laws. You refuse to submit to punishment that would restrict your ability to…function, I suppose. And yet we can do none of these things without, in essence, submitting to the same form of extraterritoriality that colonial powers used to allow the brutalization of their conquests."

Ouch. Put like that, even Toushiro would admit to it seeming to be a little much. But he rather thought Nedzu was forcing the words out of his mouth. The mouse should already know of the plan that Hitsugaya was going to divulge – of the falsehood that he could spin so easily.

The tail twitched again, jerking in Tsukauchi's direction. And suddenly, Hitsugaya understood what the mouse was doing. The clever creature. He knew he'd always liked this one. He hadn't, however, realized when Nedzu's anger had turned from genuine upset to mild irritation. What an _actor_.

"That's _not_ what I want," he snapped, letting aggravation carry him. Tsukauchi would see through the truth of his words, and Nedzu would be satisfied that power over humans was precisely the opposite of his intent. "In fact, I can appreciate the need for a farce of a punishment of some kind. What I want, however, is indeed cooperation. My phone has a radar installed that can track Hollow appearances, but only within a certain range. I can't give this technology out, but what I can do is ask that there is a protocol put in place for dealing with Hollow appearances, and a method devised of alerting me."

The two agents looked distinctly confused, startled by this sudden switch in tone.

"I thought you said humans lacked the ability to defeat Hollows," the younger man said, his neat coif of hair starting to stick to the back of his neck. "Why the sudden change?"

Hitsugaya laced his fingers together, elbows on the table, and smirked wickedly.

"I said you couldn't defeat them and shouldn't fight them. I said nothing about holding them off," he pointed out. "Most low-level Hollows are easily recognizable. They're large and animalistic, resembling anything from a bird to a fish to a dog, and they always have a face-mask made of bone. There's also a large Hollow hole bored through their chests – in autopsies, you'll find that they lack a heart. This level of Hollow is what heroes may be able to stall. If you can issue orders of some kind to heroes, notify them that only ranged fighters that pack a lot of firepower should engage these creatures. Guns won't work, but if you have weapons that can fire explosives, and can consistently hit a Hollow's mask, you should be able to slow it down."

Hitsugaya tapped his phone, pressing a touch of icy pale blue into the circuitry.

"Basic Information: Hollows. Level: Emergency."

Instantly, the doctored information on Hollows came up, flashing into blue, and several varities of low-level Hollow appeared in the holographic light. Hitsugaya pointed at one of the images. The humans, Nedzu excepted, all looked vaguely fascinated by the strange pictures.

"On average, low-level Hollows will range in size from a small car to the size of a fully-grown oak tree," he said. "And their abilities will range as well. But the bottom line is that the more a Hollow eats – the more humans it kills – the stronger it gets. So if a Hollow appears, the first step should be to notify me immediately so I can kill it. And make no mistake. Hollows are not all dumb animals. Some have incredible intelligence. They will try to reason with you. To make you think they're just sad mistakes, that they're human in some way. Don't be fooled. The only Hollows that can claim some level of humanity are the high-level Hollows, the Arrancar. These Hollows look human, save for a Hollow hole and a bone mask fragment of some kind. They're strong enough to ignore their hunger for human flesh in favor of a greater goal, but it doesn't mean that they don't indulge."

The agents and the burly woman in the lab coat all looked distinctly unnerved by these revelations, though Aizawa and Nedzu were calm, for the most part. Finally, the elder of the two agents spoke, summarizing weakly.

"So…call you and keep the Hollows away via ranged attacks. But we can't justify using a kid to fight our battles, and we can't just reveal the existence of aliens to the general public…"

Hitsugaya bared his teeth, eyes flashing.

"What are you talking about?" he sneered, "I thought I was a human experiment genetically engineered to go after Hollows and brainwashed into thinking I'm an inhuman monstrosity? Oh, and suffering severe PTSD on top of all this. I mean, doesn't that already explain a lot of my behavior?"

Aizawa's tired gaze flicked up, snapping through the rubber drag of the dark bags under his eyes. His fringe fell away from the sudden realization.

"…That would have been your story this whole time if we hadn't put the pressure on, wouldn't it?"

Hitsugaya let out a sharp laugh, not bothering to be nice about the whole affair.

"Yeah, and even that was dangerously close to the truth." He glared, no looking directly at Tsukauchi with a cold stare. "But you damn well couldn't take no for an answer, and now I have to risk facing trial among my own people to satisify your persistence."

Aizawa's expression changed. Hitsugaya could feel the mood of the room shift toward sympathy, easing toward agreement.

"…You'll get in trouble for even telling us this much?"

The speaker was the police chief, his wobbling hound-jowls slightly agape. Hitsugaya laughed coldly.

"Are you stupid?" he spat, aimless anger tainting his words with acid. "My people enjoy public executions. I might be a Captain, one of thirteen of the most powerful people in my society, but if my actions offend the nobles enough, or if Central 46 chooses to pursue my actions as their one policy for the year, then I'll be lucky to escape with my skin intact! Hell, I've seen lower-seated officers whipped to death for this kind of security breach! The only reason I could possibly get away with it is because I'm doing it to prevent mass human casualties, and because I'm _really fucking dangerous_ when I'm pissed off."

He stood up, ice in his gaze.

"So, this is my only offer," he leveled, glaring around the room. "Either you agree to my terms – releasing details of my PTSD and the human-experimentation story being the sole reason I can defeat Hollows, as well as the orders to hero offices – or I walk out of here with my sword drawn. If the criminal charges are your concern, I'll accept a tracking bracelet of some kind and I'll plead insanity at whatever sham trial you have to give me if I must. Anything else you'll have to convince me of."

The police chief glanced worriedly at Nedzu, then directed his gaze to the pair of government agents. They both looked contemplative, and Hitsugaya took their moment of silence to deactivate his phone. It turned off with a soft dial tone, the screen flashing blue before going fully dark. Steel flashed as the fluorescent light overhead flickered.

The greying agent stood, face grim, and stepped lightly towards the door.

"…I need to make a phone call."

* * *

 **So, a bit of a recap chapter for those of you familiar with Bleach. Hopefully it was halfway interesting! Please, let me know what you think in the box below!**

 **A/N to** **Anon Reviewer:**

 **I suppose I do have to thank you for having enough faith that I can write someone else's ideas well, and for being a fan of my writing, but it seems I'm going to have to explain a few things to you.**

 **One) My Hunter x Hunter AU is published. It is not a crossover. I am not interested in currently writing requests at this time. Sorry.**

 **Two) The crossover idea you're giving me is not really yours. It belongs to another author, and is a story I follow because I genuinely enjoy reading it. I think that, yes, perhaps it's not perfect, but things rarely are perfect. My stories are not perfect, the world isn't perfect, not even chocolate is perfect, though I'm sure somewhere Killua is plotting my death for saying that.**

 **Three) You need to fuck off. This is one of the most tasteless things I have ever seen someone do on this site. Who do you think you are, asking me to rewrite _someone else's_ story because you think it's bad? I will NEVER stoop to redoing other authors' works without their permission, for ANY reason. You do understand that most people on here write for fun, right? That they're not overly concerned about making every little plot hole disappear? I've actually read the story you're talking about, and frankly, I see nothing wrong with it behind some minor grammatical errors and perhaps some mild OOC. I've shared this review with several other fic-writer friends of mine – we all agree that this is entirely uncalled for. I've spoken with the author of that work about this as well, and learned through reading the reviews of that person's story and their A/Ns that you were, in fact, extremely rude. People don't usually write out long, argumentative replies to polite, constructive criticism – and this was done in abundance for this story.**

 **Four) If you suck up to me while insulting my friend and their writing, you're nothing more than a smarmy piece of shit. Fanfiction authors should support each other. Not tear each other down. If anyone here isn't mature, it's you. Grow up and quit tearing people down just to feel powerful. It's pathetic.**

 **Signing off,**

 **avtorSola**


	30. Author's Note and Update

Hi all,

So, I'm really, really grateful to everyone who has followed, favorited, or commented on this story - y'all make my day, you really do. However, I've recently been struggling with a resurgence in my anxiety and depression, and I haven't found the motivation to actually write or draw in at least a month, if not more.

I refuse to abandon this story. It's a lot of fun to write and I won't stop now. But I don't think the next chapter is coming out for a little while longer yet. I'm sorry for such a long wait, and I promise I haven't discontinued this story, even if it seems like it. I'm just going to try to get myself to a better place before I continue on.

Thank you for all your support!

~avtorSola

(You can also search avtorSola on Tumblr and Twitter and chat with me there, if you'd like - I've been more active there recently)


	31. Contemplation

**A/N: ...Dragon Blade has a TVTropes page. _I have a tvtropes page im askdjfhaskdjfhaeursfdjlhagsi_**

 **Okay, spamming aside - Y'all. The amount of reviews you left me on the dumb A/N about my mental state - I cried, okay. You have no idea how much I was not expecting that and it- it's so appreciated**

 **Please enjoy this chapter - I've had it stored for a bit, but I'm slowly starting to write things (including my HxH fics and my Bang fic for the Bleach Big Bang) so hopefully I'm coming back completely soon. I love all of y'all (I tried to put the heart emoji but ffnet is dumb and won't let me)**

* * *

It had been eighteen days since the incident in Kamino. Eighteen days since Hitsugaya had committed murder for the second time – third time if the Nomu counted. Eighteen days since he'd surrendered quietly, without even so much as a glare sent in All Might's direction. Eighteen days since the announcement of dorm-style living now being required for all U.A. hero course students in the upcoming semester. Eighteen days since the media had been yelling accusations and screaming for answers about the hero student who'd killed in cold blood. That's how long they'd had to think about the blatant lies that Hitsugaya had spun around them.

That's how long it had been since Toushiro had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

And now All Might was sitting on the sofa across from his mother, a cup of tea cradled carefully in his giant hands. The blond hero looked highly uncomfortable, the typical aura of unimaginable optimism faltering slightly in the face of Midoriya Inko's quiet displeasure.

Izuku could still remember playing Monopoly at this very table with a white-haired boy who'd been paranoid on reflex. Now, it looked like neither of them would be returning to U.A. Academy. For very different reasons, of course, but still. Neither of them would be going back to the school he'd tried so hard to get into, to the school that Hitsugaya had just begun to accept as a safe place.

He had to admit that his mother's decision deeply upset him. He'd done so much, put so much work into trying to get into the U.A. hero department, and now she was ready to ban him from going back. And the worst part was that he couldn't even be angry, because he _understood_. The League of Villains had not only attacked a school building – twice, counting the previous incident with the weird Hollow-monsters – but had also managed to abduct a student after attacking a top-secret training trip.

And then, on top of all of this, one of the students in the hero department had sliced a man's head clean off, without so much as a batted eyelid in hesitation.

Yeah, he couldn't blame his mom for not wanting him to go back. But it didn't stop him from running straight into his room, slamming the door, and dropping onto his bed. Inko yelped after him, as did All Might, both sounding worried. He ignored them, grabbing a pillow off his bed and smushing it over his face as he yelled wordlessly into the muffling fluff for a long minute.

But then he'd gotten all his upset out. His mom was only doing her best to keep him safe. And even if it wasn't U.A. he could still become a great hero in another school's hero department. He knew that now.

Perhaps if Hitsugaya had a parent to care about him the same way Inko cared about Izuku, then maybe everything would have turned out alright for him.

He opened the door just as his mother reached for the handle, startling her, and looked her directly in the eyes.

"…It's okay if it's not U.A." he said finally, knuckles tightening on the doorframe. Past her, he could see All Might's everpresent smile slipping in confusion. "I…I mean, it's not _okay_. But I'll be able to become a hero. I'll do it no matter what. I _will._ I'll do whatever it takes so that…so that none of my friends feel forced to do what _he_ did ever again."

He took a few tentative steps back into the room, trying not to let his upset show. All Might watched him, apparently contemplating something now. His mother was very clearly concerned. It was obvious she hadn't been expecting this kind of reaction, and to be fair, even he was surprising himself. He'd always wanted to go to U.A, ever since he was knee-high on his mom.

But now, after seeing Hitsugaya slip away with a series of lies and broken promises, he was starting to realize that U.A. had _never_ addressed how to save a friend. Perhaps there hadn't been the need to. Most heroes weren't friends with villains, after all. But in a situation like this, where morals floated in grey rather than in black and white – maybe an outside perspective would help. Maybe he needed a school where he wasn't so isolated from the rest of the world, where he was training to be a hero but also talking with general studies students, students who had different outlooks on life and could teach him the _why_ of crime, rather than just the _who, what_ and _how_.

 _"_ _Midoriya, you've got a hell of a backbone in you – I can see it whenever you're acting on someone else's behalf."_

"I think I've made yet another mistake, and gotten my responsibilities mixed up again."

Inko and Izuku whipped around to face All Might, who was smiling again, pride very clear on his face. Something in the glittering blue of his gaze had shifted, something bittersweet and fierce there. Izuku had no idea what the top hero was thinking. No idea at all.

But then the pro hero got on his knees and _bowed_ to his mother, and Izuku tried not to let out the high-pitched squeal at the back of his throat.

"…I believe Izuku will be the next Symbol of Peace, Midoriya-san," the burly hero said, sincerity ringing in his tone. "And that is why I must apologize, for taking advantage of his admiration and neglecting his education. It is true that my career is violent and dangerous. So I must then ensure that Izuku does not walk the same path as me, and I must be at his side along the way. So please – will you allow me to give everything I have to Young Izuku? Even if it costs my life, I will protect and nurture him."

Izuku could barely hear his hero saying these things over the blood roaring in his ears. He could feel his heart bursting in his chest. His mother sank to her knees, overwhelmed and teary-eyed.

"Don't…you mustn't lay down your life no matter what," she gasped out, tears watering her eyes. "If you can go on living while protecting and teaching him to the best of your ability…then I'll trust you with my son."

All Might touched his forehead to the floor again.

"I promise."

The rest of the visit was very short. All Might only stayed long enough to finish his tea, profusely thanking Midoriya Inko for the gift of her trust. Izuku just floated along, head filled with clouds at All Might's faith in him. But then the massive man was on his way out the door, his yellow pinstriped suit slightly wrinkled from the bowing, and finally, Izuku found his tongue.

"…All Might?"

The number one hero paused on the doorstep, his shoes on, and Inko glanced at her son curiously. Izuku swallowed.

"…What…what happened to Hitsugaya-kun?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, leaking out into the hallway. All Might's smile dropped, lips forming a dark line of sudden grimness. He pulled the door closed, then turned to fully face his student.

"…the official story will be released to the news shortly," he said, and Izuku paused, startled by the wording. "For now, that is the only truth I can tell you."

Inko stepped forward, her green eyes wide, and she lifted a hand to hover beneath her chin fretfully. Izuku felt a chill run down his spine aa All Might's expression turned wary.

"…Official story? Only truth?" she asked slowly. "What…what exactly does that mean?"

The floor creaked loudly beneath All Might's weight as he shifted, and the blond man's grip on the doorknob tightened just enough to make the cheap metal squeal. The pro-hero took a deep breath.

"It means, Midoriya-san, that the Ministry of Defense will arrest me if I say anything else at this time." Izuku felt his stomach turn somersaults at the implication, at once puzzled by and terrified of what that meant. All Might sighed reluctantly. "However, I can tell you at least this much. Young Hitsugaya has asked that each of his classmates and their families be made fully aware of the situation, if only to keep their parents reassured. Parents will be asked to join their child at the school at 8:30 pm on move-in day for appropriate explanations."

Cool fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist as his mother grabbed his hand. Slight vibrations tickled his skin as she trembled. Izuku didn't blame her. He'd worried her enough in the past few months. And now Hitsugaya was somehow tangled up with the Ministry of Defense. And they wouldn't find out how for another three days.

And he'd thought eighteen days was a long time.

* * *

Three days later, he was standing outside a tall building with "1-A" carved onto the front stone façade. His other classmates – even Kacchan, who'd been the unlucky soul kidnapped – all stood beside him, having begged permission from their parents to stay at the school. All of them, save the one who had no parents to beg for anything – only a parole officer. It looked like everyone had noticed it too, most of the group standing too stiffly to be feeling completely at ease. Even when the door opened and Aizawa came sulking down the stairs, the atmosphere still pulled on the air in everyone's lungs, trying to force it out.

Finally, someone broke the silence. Sero smiled, the expression sitting crookedly on his face, like he'd taped a piece of paper with a cutout grin over the anger and helplessness lying beneath the surface.

"It looks like everyone got permission to come back, at least," he tried weakly. "Even Aizawa-sensei…"

There were a few hesitant nods at that. Nobody really wanted to address the elephant in the room – the arrest of their classmate and his betrayal of everyone's trust. Izuku himself still wasn't sure how to feel about it. Because, on one hand, he understood why Toushiro had lied so blatantly – why he'd been so utterly manipulative. Toushiro hadn't wanted them to get hurt. He hadn't wanted them to jeopardize their futures.

But he'd made a promise that he wouldn't endanger himself either. And he'd spectacularly broken that promise. And on top of that, he'd killed All-for-One. He'd _killed_ the man that All Might had tried so hard to take down. The man that he'd lost organ function to.

And he'd done it so easily.

Then, as if rubbing salt into the wound, the news had finally received details of Hitsugaya's arrest just that morning. After much debate, and the publicized revelation of the experimentation, torture, and mental conditioning that had caused Hitsugaya's PTSD and had _apparently_ coerced him into attacking certain villains, it had been decided that he couldn't currently be held responsible for his actions. The whole story had been spun into a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare, victimizing Hitsugaya as much as possible without directly absolving him of guilt.

Tsukauchi – the man with the Lie-Detector Quirk who'd spoken to him about the incident with Shigaraki at the mall – had even come on screen as a special guest, confirming the whole story and asserting that his Quirk had been instrumental in pulling the truth out. He'd then gone on to reassure viewers that Toushiro had been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, which would not be identified, for evaluation and treatment and that, following his release, he'd be allowed to return to school with a tracking device of some kind until his trial.

And the worst part of it all was that Izuku just _knew_ it couldn't be true. Hitsugaya was far too intelligent for him to just…have been a pawn. He'd singlehandedly killed the one villain that eight successive holders of One-for-All had been hard-pressed to challenge. And yet…that was what he'd secretly thought all along, wasn't it? That Hitsugaya was a human boy, put through hell and altered until he believed himself to be less than human – until he believed his sole purpose was to kill whatever villians he thought were 'Hollows.' It was what everyone had wondered, Toushiro's story too fantastic to be easily accepted.

And now that his suspicions had been revealed to be true, he – and the rest of the class – couldn't seem to accept it.

Aizawa looked around at the assembled group, his eyes narrow. Then the exhausted man let out a huge sigh and rolled his shoulders once.

"It's good you all made it here safely," their teacher groaned. "Now, I'm going to give you a quick briefing in regards to the dorms. However, there are two things I need to talk to you all about first. First – the plan was for everyone to get their provisional hero licenses after the training camp. However, that obviously didn't happen. So why did some of you decide to get involved with Bakugo's rescue?"

The wind rustled the hedges planted around their new dormitory building. Midoriya couldn't bring himself to meet Aizawa's gaze.

"Todoroki. Kirishima. Midoriya. Yaoyorozu. Iida. The five of you deliberately decided to take action and went to Kamino to interfere in Bakugo's rescue. And from the looks currently on all of your faces, your classmates understand the weight of that decision you made. So let me say this now. If Hitsugaya hadn't freely admitted to manipulating all five of you into following his plans, I would have expelled all of you except Bakugo. You five for obvious reasons, and the rest for not preventing them from going in the first place."

His tone was severe. It was the usual stern, soft-spoken anger that so burned when it came out. And then Aizawa took a deep breath.

"And the second thing," he began, "concerns the missing member of our class."

Instantly, everyone stiffened, and Kirishima gritted his sharp teeth. Yaoyorozu fixed her gaze on the ground, fists curling at her side. Todoroki smoked faintly, obviously tensing but not reacting beyond that. Iida took a step forward, glasses reflecting the sunlight onto the wetness of his eyes.

"I…It was on the news this morning, Aizawa-sensei."

"Yes, that would be the official story – the one Hitsugaya-kun asked us to release," Aizawa said grimly. At once, all the students shot confused, slightly uneasy looks in their teacher's direction. "Everyone's parents are able to come tonight, are they not?"

There was a smattering of nods from the class as a whole, breaking worry starting to sink into everyone present. Aizawa regarded them all for a long moment. Then he let out a long, long sigh, as if he was trying to singlehandedly worsen global greenhouse gases with just the carbon dioxide from his lungs.

"Then you should all know that some of what the public has been told is true. For example, Hitsugaya-kun did indeed consent to stay in a psychiatric facility for the remainder of the summer vacation, and he has asked me to reassure you that he is in fact receiving treatment." Aizawa slid his hands into his pockets. "However. The majority of the information released to the public has been doctored. As per Hitsugaya-kun's request, you and your parents will all be given the opportunity to hear the whole story – after signing confidentiality forms. Any information not released to the press is currently considered Top Secret by the Ministry of Defense and the Prime Minister himself."

Everyone in Class 1-A jolted. Izuku felt his heart clench uncomfortably in his chest, tightening under his ribcage as if he'd been struck. Kaminari accidentally discharged some lightning as well, making everyone's hair stand on end – even Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu's long locks.

So this is what All Might had been talking about, Izuku realized dimly, unsure of how to process such shocking news.

It was bad enough that Toushiro had voluntarily agreed to be – even temporarily – confined in a mental health hospital, especially after being so vehement in his opposition to the idea when Endeavor had threatened him with the same thing barely a month or so ago. But now the _Ministry of Defense_ had declared Hitsugaya and his secrets to be classified information, suitable even for censorship.

Honestly it was frightening.

"Alright now, time to go explore. Try and smile, you lot."

Aizawa started off towards the steps of their new home, leaving most of the class stricken on the sidewalk. Izuku took a shaky step forward, trying to reconcile his friend's criminality with his mental illness and his apparent status as a _government secret_. Then Kacchan snagged Kaminari by the wrist and dragged him towards one of the hedges, stomping off in true Kacchan fashion.

There was a strangled yelp. Then a sizzling flash of static.

"Wheyyyyyy! Huuuueeeyyyyyy!"

Kaminari came stumbling out from behind the bush, drooling slightly, thumbs up, his brain currently fried. The noises continued as Kacchan stomped back out, a little touch of red on his nose. Jirou lost her head entirely, cracking up at the mere sight of a zapped Kaminari, and slowly her laughter spread through the rest of the class.

It was like a breath of clean air after days of smog. They bounced into the new dorms feeling much better about the whole Kamino affair, soft chatter starting to break out between the students. Izuku's jaw dropped as he saw the first floor to their dorm building, gaping at the huge, open floor plan and the enclosed courtyard he could see through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows forming one wall. Aizawa gestured to the general area with a sigh, waving his hand negligently through the air.

"The dorms are separated from the second floor up. Boys on the left, girls on the right. However, this first floor here is common space, and it contains dining, bathing, and laundry facilities. Mineta, the bathing and laundry facilities are separated by gender as well, and I'll expel anyone who's found in the opposite gender's bathrooms or laundry. You're all allowed in each other's rooms – except Mineta, you're banned from the girls' floors – but only if the door is kept open. The only reason that you're allowed this is because there are cameras in the hallways that can see you if your doors are open. Am I clear?"

Izuku went slightly red. The concept of being allowed in a girl's room, or a girl being allowed in his room, was exceedingly new, and more than a little bit frightening on some base level. Uraraka and Jirou went scarlet too, as did Sero, Sato, and Tokoyami. Even Todoroki looked faintly pink at the concept.

Aizawa then pointed to a small map that had been posted on the wall between the two sets of double doors, directing everyone's attention to the diagram.

"Your room assignments can be seen there, and you have the rest of the day to set them up as you please. Meet me back down here at 8:20 sharp tonight, and if anyone needs anything, all of the homeroom teachers have been assigned rooms in a smaller building located in the center of the dorm block. I have a room there, and the teachers will be rotating who's on night duty throughout the year." Aizawa didn't sound too excited about the prospect of sleeping on campus for someone who rolled around in a large sleeping bag all day.

Then Kirishima choked, and his fist slammed on the wall next to the small diagram. His crimson eyes had dilated to dark pools in shock. Izuku felt a lurch of confusion, heart clawing up his throat when he saw the name next to Kacchan's, at the end of the hallway.

"Aizawa-sensei, this- is Hitsugaya really-?"

Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

"Hitsugaya-kun was permitted to return to his studies following his release from the psychiatric ward where he is receiving treatment. Nedzu himself has allowed this," Aizawa said. Then he smiled widely, revealing startlingly white teeth for a probable coffee-addict, and glanced over at the kitchen. Izuku followed his gaze curiously, as did the rest of the class, then had to suppress a squeak. Kouda instantly lit up and ran forward, his rocky face pinked with happiness. A small black cat sat curled up on the counter, purring cheerfully as Kouda rubbed it beneath its chin. Aizawa nodded approvingly.

"It's been recommended that an animal of some kind be allowed to Hitsugaya in order to help him relieve stress, and to give him an outlet to recount his experiences to, given that he's been…a somewhat difficult patient," Aizawa explained, an ounce of unfamiliar cheer in his voice. "So I brought this cat here. It's the responsibility of everyone in the dorm to take care of it. Do you all understand?"

Izuku caught Uraraka, Ashido and Yaoyorozu trying to hold in squeals of delight and Kouda – well, everyone knew what his answer would be – was nodded up and down eagerly, still mostly silent. Even Kacchan seemed a tad less grumpy at the thought of having a class pet. Aizawa regarded them all for a moment, then stuck his hands in his pockets and slumped towards the door.

"Remember. 8:20 sharp, don't be late. Set up your rooms until then – the luggage you all sent over earlier has already been moved there."

As the door closed behind him, people surged forward to look at the floor plan, trying to glimpse their names written on the posted list. Izuku hung back, waiting for Mina and Kaminari to quit wrestling in front of the the plaque before he tried to approach it, and after a few minutes most of the first group of people had found their dorm rooms and were already bolting off up the stairs. Midoriya joined the second wave, taking the stairs two at a time up to his room in favor of using the elevator.

Setting up his room took a while. Not because anything was particularly difficult to put up, but only because he was having trouble determining which of his walls should have the most All Might posters, and how many of the limited-edition collectibles should be unboxed to make room for some of the others on the shelves. It was more a matter of organizing everything rather than unpacking.

But by the time he was finished, the sun had started to sink low in the sky. Izuku glanced up at his clock, vaguely curious as to how much time he'd managed to waste just shifting his figurines around. He bit his lip. It was only six still. There were a whole two and a half hours to go before the meeting about Hitsugaya tonight.

Two and a half hours to brood over Hitsugaya's lies for the thousandth time.

It…it wasn't as if he was upset with Hitsugaya, exactly. Well – he was. He was furious that Toushiro would lie to his face about his own safety; that he'd be so negligent as to sacrifice his own future. Toushiro had promised not to kill anyone else – or, at least, he'd promised that he wouldn't do anything to worsen his criminal record. And then he'd gone and cut a man's head off.

He'd let the women go, though. That had been a surprise. Of course, it could have been that something had happened before the news had started broadcasting, something to calm Hitsugaya's paranoia about the three women being enemies. But Izuku couldn't say for certain. Even in the replayed footage, the earliest newscaster had only started recording in time to capture Hitsugaya standing over one woman, striking a deal with her two companions. In fact, even the helicopter reporters hadn't been close enough during the actual fight to properly identify what was going on – all they'd confirmed for certain was that the ice appeared to be one of Hitsugaya's abilities.

So that meant Toushiro had let the women go for reasons unknown, yet had decided to kill All-for-One.

At least he'd chosen to spare _someone_ , Izuku thought. At least he hadn't chosen to murder three innocent women as well. But then- they couldn't have been fully innocent, if Toushiro had gone after them in the first place. Or, he supposed they _could_ have been innocent, if they also happened to be Hollows. Hitsugaya had mentioned before, when he was talking about the purple-eyed Hollow-villain from the traning camp, that Hollows weren't human. That they were corrupted versions of whatever the experiments had turned him into. But what if they _were_ human, after all? Just…people who happened to be on someone's hit list, so they'd conditioned Hitsugaya into thinking they weren't human. After all, they'd shared similar bony features with the villain Toushiro had killed at the training camp.

And they'd had very little in common with the giant, animalistic thing that had attacked Todoroki and Kacchan back in March – the thing that Hitsugaya had asserted to also be a Hollow.

And…if that was the case, if those three women had been innocent Hollows, maybe that was why Hitsugaya had let them go. Because he'd realized that what he was doing was the same as what the Giselle woman had forced him to do.

 _"_ _I…will never, willingly or otherwise, hurt my friends or innocent people again. I_ can't _. Never again."_

Izuku wasn't sure he could forget what Hitsugaya had said on the train. How could he? He'd felt Toushiro shaking in his lap, gasping for breath like a half-drowned man even though he was on land. Toushiro had been desperate for something – _anything_ – to ground him, so desperate that he'd allowed himself to be held. That he'd sought out the sound of a heartbeat. That even after he'd forced himself out of whatever torrent of memory had caught him, he'd stayed docile, kept his ear pressed to Izuku's shirt until he'd needed to feel some degree of independence. And yet he'd kept talking. He'd trusted them enough to force himself to be vulnerable.

And…yes, in the end it had been to manipulate them into doing what he wanted. But he'd told them at least part of the truth up front, hadn't he? That he needed them to do whatever he said, no matter how he said it.

He hadn't been lying, when he'd made that promise. And it hadn't been the first time he'd made that promise either.

So maybe…maybe he'd tried to keep it?

It was a small ray of hope, at least. Hope that, just maybe, Hitsugaya could come back from all of this. That he could learn not to kill 'Hollows,' learn that what he did was wrong, and why it was wrong. Then Aizawa's words from the hospital three weeks ago drifted through his mind.

 _"_ _I think you'll find that Hitsugaya-kun's moral compass is likely stronger than yours – it just differs. And you're struggling with that difference."_

Was it wrong of him to want his friend to feel the same way he did? Was it wrong to wish that Hitsugaya at least _tried_ to avoid dealing out lethal injuries; to wish that he at least _tried_ to wrap his mind around the concept that heroes killed their opponents only as a last resort?

Izuku didn't really think that was wrong of him. What would be wrong would be to force those beliefs onto someone else. But even so – those were the values that heroes were expected to have. Those were even parts of the law that heroes were expected to abide by – lethal violence was a last resort.

And yet out of everyone in their class, Hitsugaya was the only one who had the courage – or the arrogance – to actually act on his own values. And he was the only one who didn't appear to care about the repercussions. The only one who didn't care about prison time or other punishment. And so, he was the only one to actually follow through on his beliefs.

It…kind of made Izuku just a little envious. That Hitsugaya could just _not care_ enough to ignore any kind of possible consequence. That he even had the ability to do such a thing. And yet it also hurt. It hurt that Hitsugaya could do something so utterly selfish as to ignore every single law and rule designed to keep him safe. At the very least he and the others had known better than to engage in combat and knew better than to get in the heroes' way.

But Toushiro…he'd broken a promise. Because he was arrogant. Because he was selfish. Because he wanted to protect his friends. And because he…he didn't care about the consequences. Not when it came to upholding his own morals.

Izuku only rarely ever felt like he wanted to punch something, and so he threw himself onto his bed and started whaling on his pillow. But it didn't make him feel any better. Violence never had that effect on him. He just felt tired after he got angry. That was why he liked saving people.

He fell face forward, burying his face in his pillow, and let out a long sigh, tracing the designs made by the stitching on his bedspread. Nothing happened for an eternity, the second hand on his clock slowing into nothing. Someone came to his door, padding softly along and pausing right in front of the doorknob. Izuku shivered at the faint static crackles running down his spine, then reluctantly got up and went to the door.

 _"_ Mrow?"

He paused, blinking, having fully expected a human being to be standing outside his door. Then he pulled the door open to reveal a small black cat grooming itself in a patch of sunlight on the carpeted floor. The cat paused, tongue hanging slightly out of its mouth as the door creaked. Golden eyes blinked owlishly up at him, one leg in the air as the cat licked its own crotch.

"Hi, kitty," Izuku sighed, slumping down to the floor. He smiled faintly. Then the cat rolled onto its front and pushed itself up onto its paws. It meowed kittenishly at him, then bolted through his ankles and into his room. Izuku yelped as it leapt onto his desk.

"Hey!"

"Mrow!"

The cat sat down right on top of his laptop and started purring, apparently enjoying the warmth of the machinery in the air-conditioned dorms. Izuku sighed, then stepped back into his room and closed the door. The cat put its head down, batting at a stray yellow pencil. Izuku watched the cat play for a moment.

"…I guess I can talk to you too," he said finally, and the cat's ears twitched at the sound of his voice. The animal itself didn't pull its attention away from the pencil, still busily batting it back and forth. But the movement of that ear was almost like he was being listened to.

"I just…I guess I'm not sure how to deal with him now," Izuku said glumly, leaning back against the wall and sliding down until he could rest his chin on his knees. "I mean…I know he just wanted to protect us. But he lied to us. Lied to _me_ , right to my face, about keeping himself safe and out of trouble. And then he goes and kills a man even though he already had a criminal record and PTSD bad enough that he'll collapse and lose touch with reality if something triggers those memories. And I can't even decide whether or not I'm angry with him."

The cat lifted its head. The gold eyes glinted brightly, fixed on a blank spot just past Izuku's puff of greenish curls. Izuku sighed for what had to be the thousandth time in just the past two days alone.

"I suppose I just feel mostly used," he said finally, staring at the ground. "Or – not used, but I don't like being treated like I'm nothing, like my opinion and my wishes and my concern doesn't matter. And Hitusgaya-kun disrespected that in the worst way. He told me, and not just me, that he'd keep himself safe and out of trouble for our sake, because he obviously didn't care enough himself to avoid that. And then that turns out to be a lie. But he's not whole – he's struggling with a mental condition, and it's obvious that he has trust issues. Is it wrong to be mad at him when he's not well? Is that even fair to him, to expect that he would keep a promise that he might not be _able_ to keep in the first place?"

The cat, quite obviously, didn't speak, but the silence made Izuku acutely aware of how desperate and ridiculous his words sounded. Hitsugaya had betrayed his trust. He'd struck a powerful blow to any sort of friendship with his manipulative tendencies and capacity for cold-blooded murder. But in the same breath, he wasn't evil. And it was wholly clear that he had lied primarily to ensure his friends' safety, even at his own expense.

In other words, he was a stupid, self-sacrificing idiot who was also ruthless enough to rip down anyone he felt threatened by.

Hitsugaya didn't align with good or evil. He struck a third path straight down the center, toying with either side, flirting with dark and light alike. Because if he had truly been evil, he would not have bothered to protect his classmates. But if he had truly been good, then he would not have resorted to murder. And his every action was influenced by the atrocities done to him in the past, by the horrors he'd had to live through.

And it was _that_ which upset Izuku, because he wasn't sure whether or not he could agree with a drive so resolute that it would crush anything in its way, villain and hero alike, despite being tainted by a past of paranoia, terror, and pain.

"…Thanks, kitty," he mumbled softly, feeling slightly more centered now that he knew exactly _what_ the most upsetting thing about the whole affair was. And – even better, he now knew how to behave. How to respond when Hitsugaya came back.

Toushiro's resolve to achieve his goals by any means necessary wouldn't soften until after those lenses of PTSD were cleared, until the blur of his past was adjusted into healed, clear sight. He needed to heal before he could really be held responsible for believing what he did. Murder was evil, and Hitsugaya knew it. Izuku knew it. But as long as he could prevent Toushiro from ever being forced into that situation again, he almost thought that he could forgive the other boy for everything. Almost. But then again, perhaps forgiveness was a tall order. At the very least, he now understood, even if only a little, and could perhaps learn to recognize the signs of this sort of occurrence in the future – so he could stop it before it happened again.

Yes. He'd settle for understanding. Forgiveness could wait.

He stood up and walked over to his desk, gently lifting the cat in his arms. It squirmed miserably, yowling in protest until it got settled, curled up in his arms with tiny black paws resting on his shirt front. Then it started purring, kneading his forearms and pectoral muscle. Izuku giggled a little bit, enraptured by such a cute creature, and started for his door, easing it open with a foot.

"Alright, let's go see who else is done, hm?"

He walked carefully down the stairs, the kitty purring contentedly in his arms, and poked his head into the large common room. Most of his classmates had already appeared to have finished, with the exception of Todoroki, Mineta, Tsuyu-chan and Tokoyami, and they were bumbling around like curious bees, inspecting everything.

"Deku-kun, you found the kitty!" Uraraka bounded over to him with an exciteable giggle, her pretty russet stare fixing on the cat's golden eyes. The cat blinked at her, the dark pupils in the gold eyes growing fat, and started squirming in his hands again. Izuku yelped in surprise, quickly stooping down just as the silky black cat wriggled out of his hold and landed lightly on the floor, paws thumping faintly on the ground.

"She came upstairs and hijacked my laptop," Izuku said with a small laugh. Then he knelt down, rubbing behind the cat's ears, slightly wistful. "…she's a good listener."

Uraraka's posture shifted, one foot rubbing at the back of her calf, toes barely brushing the floor, and Izuku looked up to see that her round cheeks had crinkled in, her gaze downcast. The light freckles on the bridge of her nose were barely visible from this angle.

"…Deku-kun, Iida-kun and the others have been telling us about…about Kamino," she said carefully. Izuku got back to his feet, slightly nervous about where Uraraka was leading the conversation. Behind her, several of his other classmates wouldn't meet his gaze. She started rubbing her pointer fingers together, nervous energy swirling the soft pads on her fingertips around each other. "…Deku-kun, I…I'm honestly scared of Hitsugaya now."

Midoriya opened his mouth soundlessly, trying to find the words to explain why she – and ther others – shouldn't fear Hitsugaya. But the sentences he needed wouldn't come, the explanations dying on his tongue. So he just closed his mouth, lowered his gaze to the carpeted floor beneath his indoor slippers, and tried not to let his fingernails break the skin of his palms.

"Why?" he asked then. "Why are you scared of him?"

Uraraka bit her lip.

"…maybe not… _of_ him, exactly," she admitted quietly. "But I'm scared _for_ him. He's sick and I…I don't know how to help. I don't even know if I _can_ help. He's already proven that he's capable of murder – and not just in self-defense either, now."

"But he let the three women go," Midoriya pointed out, his tone low. "He didn't kill them. And he could have gone to Kamino alone. It would have been easy for him to get rid of us – he can turn himself invisible, did you know that? But he…he brought us along, made us promise to do what he said. I think that's because he wanted to keep us safe – and because he knew that we'd go on our own if he tried to force us to stay. Plus…Uraraka-san, he made us promise to tell the police everything. Everything. That he'd made us promise to do what he said, that he'd manipulated us. He was ready to throw himself under the bus for us."

The stairs creaked behind him, and he turned to see Tokoyami, Todoroki, and Mineta all spilling out into the spacious common area, varying expressions of numb boredom or dread on their faces. Todoroki raised an eyebrow at Uraraka and Midoriya, glancing over the other students in the room curiously.

"…what are we talking about?" he asked, tone bland. Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Kirishima all exchanged long, significant looks. Todoroki's mismatched eyes went slightly round, putting the pieces together.

"…Ah."

Yaoyorozu stood from her seat on one of the many couches, chewing on her lower lip anxiously. But her spine was straight with tension, and her hands were curled into tight fists. She still looked upset over the whole affair, and frankly, Izuku couldn't find it in his heart to disagree in any way.

"We'll find out what Hitsugaya-kun was hiding when our parents get here," she said firmly, her voice shaking. "Until then – let's not jump to conclusions. The Ministry of Defense doesn't get involved for no reason."

Nobody could argue with her on that, and so the room fell momentatrily silent, the somber attitude from before starting to descend upon the assembled students again. And then Mina stood up, putting her hands on her hips, a determined smile on her bubblegum face.

"Okay!" she announced. "To get everyone's mind off the sad things, we're going to hold a room contest to see who has the best decorated room! Everyone's all unpacked, right?"

There was some mild spluttering from Iida and some of the other boys, but then the girls were moving, banding together in an effort to lighten the mood, and soon everyone was scurrying up the boys' staircases, squalling over each other's choices of room décor and the _amount of books_ Iida had on his bookshelves and the _darkness_ of Tokoyami's room. Midoriya immersed himself in the distraction, grateful to Mina for the idea. Even Bakugo went along with it, revealing a drum set in the corner of his room alongside some heavy metal band posters.

But then 8:20 rolled around, the minute hand ticking forward, and the entire class crept down to the common area, munching absently on Satou's cakes. Aizawa was waiting for them, a man with neatly coiffed hair and a neat black suit standing at his side like a bodyguard, even speaking into an earpiece. Aizawa looked oddly tense, his posture drawn and taut, like a power cable in a gust of hurricane-level wind. Midoriya swallowed, and silently, the class followed the pair of adults outside their dorm and into an auditorium inside the school, where many of their parents had already gathered, pens and confidentiality forms in hand. Nedzu and a few more government agents were milling around on the stage, All Might and most of their teachers also present, lips pressed and a strange kind of tension saturating the air. Even Tsukauchi, All-Might's policeman friend with the Lie-Detecting Quirk, was there.

But eventually, even Endeavor came storming into the auditorium, scowling heavily, and signed his form. He was the last one to arrive, and it seemed he knew it, because as soon as he signed his confidentiality form and placed it with the others, he made his irritation known.

"Alright, what are we here for?" the number two hero scowled from the back of the room, his expression very flat. Nedzu, the teaching staff, and the agents onstage all exchanged long looks, and the mouse stood up, climbing onto All-Might's shoulder for a better view of the confused-looking audience. But before he could open his mouth to speak, there was a flash of light and a sound like shattering glass, and a figure sitting on air directly above Nedzu's head smirked, jade gaze flashing with dangerous icy blue.

"You're here, Endeavor-san," Hitsugaya said coolly, "For the truth."

* * *

 **So, a little bit of Mido's POV on Hitsu's recent actions! Hopefully that helps y'all understand the BnHA cast's mindset towards Hitsugaya, the Hollows, and Arrancar a bit better. (aka, murder is an absolute evil in the BnHA-verse, whereas in Bleach it's more lax toward certain kinds of murder - aka ritual combat/executions, for example)**

 **Also...did you spot the second Bleach character? ;)**

 **(If you wanna yell me on Tumblr or twitter, my user is avtorSola, same as here, my A03 and DeviantArt! My fic-and-art-only sideblog on Tumblr is solaarts, though!)**


	32. Forgiven, not Forgotten

**A/N:** Sorry for being so absent recently, lovelies. I had something of a mental breakdown recently, and it culminated in me temporarily abandoning my stories, art, Tumblr and Twitter accounts. If you followed my Tumblr off this story and saw the post I made about it - I'm sorry you had to see that. I just really wasn't in a good place then. But I think I'm doing a little better now, so please have this chapter. It's been sitting on my doc of this fic for a while...

* * *

Predictably, there was an uproar. Inko shot to her feet, clapping her hands over her mouth at the sight of the apparent criminal and classmate materializing from nowhere, her soft call of Hitsugaya's name dying in the sudden roar of shock and terror from several of the parents. Midoriya flinched at the sight of that smirk, recoiling in the same manner that most of his classmates did. Hitsugaya didn't appear to notice, but his glare turned cold and sudden pressure spread through the room. Midoriya's chest locked up, every breath suddenly a strain, and he sank back into his seat alongside his mother as she did the same. Even Endeavor went quiet and staggered back into his chair.

Then the pressure lifted, the atmosphere of the room fully returning to normal once everyone had gone quiet. Hitsugaya scowled, dropping out of his floating seat on the air to crouch lightly on the stage before standing back up again.

"That's enough."

Midoriya shivered, staring. The tone Hitsugaya was using was icy, cold and utterly uncaring, almost angry but as if the emotion had frozen on its way to a boil, all the pent-up energy still seething underneasth the surface. His mother let out a little gasp, tears welling in her eyes at the sound of the boy she'd once hosted. Izuku swallowed hard, feeling suddenly guilty. Of course – she'd barely known Hitsugaya, but back then he'd been clearly in need of kindness. And she'd tried, opening their home to him. But it hadn't worked.

Then she stood up again, green eyes fixed on Hitsugaya, her mouth set in a stern, teary frown. Toushiro blinked owlishly, fixating on her with laserlike intensity.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Hitsugaya-kun," she said, her lower lip trembling. Izuku found the rest of the room strangely silent as she was speaking. Even Toushiro was quiet. "You had so many people willing to help you, and you threw it all away."

That was it. Those two short sentences were the only words she said. But right in front of the group's disbelieving eyes, Toushiro crumpled, his shoulders hunching forward, gaze dropping to the wooden floorboards, arms crossing over his chest protectively. Izuku started slightly, half-rising from his seat. Then Toushiro started chuckling, a soft, rueful noise, his fingernails biting deep into the exposed skin on his arms. The black, sleeveless turtleneck he wore rippled in some invisible wind.

"Midoriya-san, thank you," he said softly, lips stretching thin over white teeth. Inko quivered a little bit, her hands coming up to clutch at the air beneath her her chin, eyes wide and watery. Toushiro unclenched his body language, pulling his hands away from his gold-tinged arms and sliding them into the pockets of his cargo shorts, small red moon-marks pressed into his biceps. "Thank you for reminding me what family feels like."

Izuku felt a strong pulse of compassion crush his lungs in his ribcage, the sincerity on Toushiro's face one of the least guarded expressions he'd ever seen his sort-of-ex-friend make. But then the gentle, strained sincerity faded into a mask, the familiar mask of reclusive detachment.

"However, I can never feel shame in doing my duty to my people," he said then, expression hardening far beyond his years. "And my duty surpasses all other priorities, even my own life, wellbeing, and sanity. I'm grateful to you for reminding me of the person I am underneath my oaths and my position. I- I'm thankful beyond words for a short reprieve such as what you allowed me. But I will never feel shame or dishonor in executing the will of my people. Ever. Guilt – yes. I will allow myself guilt. But never shame."

Izuku paused. Many of the other students also stopped, staring blithely at the teenaged murderer (but really, was he _really_ ) standing onstage. This was new. Wasn't it? Had Hitsugaya ever spoken about swearing oaths before? Had he ever once mentioned a position of some kind? And – nobody else onstage was disagreeing. The government agents were letting him speak. Aizawa and Nedzu and All Might were letting him speak. Not a single hero was countermanding his statements.

Hitsugaya glanced at Endeavor again, his eyes steely and hard, his jaw locked, chin held high. He pulled a slim phone from his pocket, absently tapping the screen.

"You are all here because I want you to know the same truths that I have told to your human Prime Minister and his associates, as a measure of respect and assurance to the parents, mainly," Hitsugaya said evenly, his tone impeccably calm, still fiddling with the phone in his hand. "To that end, you have all signed forms which, in effect, guarantee your silence on everything said in this room. So know this. Everything the media has told you about me was a doctored cover story I allowed your authorities to release. The only hard fact in that story was my acquiescence to the request that I spend the remainder of the summer break in a psychiatric hospital for more thorough treatment of my…condition."

The distaste struggling on Hitsugaya's tongue was palpable in the room, and a muscle pulled in his jaw, tendons quivering in the sides of his throat. Izuku swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how irritated and uncomfortable that Toushiro must have been in a psychiatric ward. Even if he had voluntarily placed himself in care, it must have been excruiciatingly difficult for him to agree to. But then Toushiro flexed his fingers around the phone and closed his eyes tightly, shaking himself.

Toushiro then turned to look over his shoulder with a kind of wary slouch, gazing pointedly at Nedzu and the agent seated next to All Might – the man with neatly coiffed hair. He nodded at those two, his expression neutral, and the agent stood up, crossing over to the podium where a laptop stood open. The agent booted the device up, and a large screen slid down from the ceiling, a projector shining blue light onto the flat surface. Hitsugaya came over, holding the phone out flat, the screen shining white.

"Voice override, Hitsugaya Toushiro," he said, his voice very clear. "Security Clearance Alpha. Information level: Emergency. Compatibility mode, engage."

For a moment, everyon was silent, and then a cool female voice played faintly, the voice echoing faintly in the auditorium. The phone buzzed in Toushiro's hand.

 _~"Reiatsu signature: Match. Access Authorized. Information level: Emergency, is currently accessible. Compatibility Mode: Engaged. Set Technological Compatibility level."~_

"Compatability level: 21st century human technology," Toushiro said flatly. Izuku startled in surprise, as did several others, his heart sinking in his chest. This again. Even after being hospitalized for the remainder of summer break, he still hadn't managed to undo that conditioning – that belief that he wasn't human.

But then the device responded.

 _~"Technological Compatibility level set to: 21_ _st_ _Century. Human. Recalibrating."~_

Hitsugaya didn't appear surprised by this. Neither did anyone else onstage. But Izuku felt the air get sucked violently out of his lungs at the subtle confirmation that the phone had technological settings other than human. _Other than human._ The projector screen lit up in blue as Hitsugaya attached his phone to the computer, then went fuzzy for a moment, clearing slowly to reveal a strange sort of menu with tabs like 'Mission Reports' and 'Hollow Locator.' Then Toushiro stepped up onto thin air again and sat down, crosslegged on nothing, his phone in his hand.

"Tsukauchi-san, Hamada-san. Nedzu-sensei." He gestured at the stage, holding up his phone. "The floor is yours. I will issue corrections as necessary."

Tsukauchi let out a long, slow breath, then stood up. Nedzu slid to the ground off All-Might's broad shoulder, climbing up to stand on top of the podium just beside Hitsugaya's seat on thin air, and an older agent with a greying beard and salt-and-pepper hair stepped up beside Tsukauchi, gazing at the menu onscreen. Then Nedzu took a deep, steadying breath, and spoke into the microphone.

"Parents and students of Class 1-A," he said solemnly. "Everything we are about to reveal you is true. Please suspend your sense of disbelief until the questions at the end."

Izuku braced himself, but for what, he wasn't sure. Hitsugaya's eyes slid shut, chin going down to rest on his knee, the solid black boots he was wearing seemingly balanced on nothing. And then Nedzu started speaking.

In little more than thirty minutes, his entire life turned on its head. Again.

)()()()()(

Alternate dimensions. Interdimensional stranding. Hollows. Arrancar. The Gotei 13. Thirteen military divisions. Politics. Ranks. Aliens. Anti-Hollow powers. Executions.

Hitsugaya…wasn't human. And never had been. But not in the sense Izuku had thought.

He was a stranded interdimensional alien, pulled from his home dimension by what was quite possibly a Quirk. Hollows were monsters from his homeworld, breaking through the very fabric of spacetime to emerge through an Einstein-Rosen bridge – a wormhole – of some kind. Hitsugaya's people were warriors, trained specifically to control the Hollow problem and to stop them from preying on humans, and were organized into thirteen military divisions which functioned as his people's unwieldy form of government. He even was a ranking officer of some kind in the Tenth Division, stranded without a way home and stuck in a dimension with no natural predator for the Hollows coming through in droves.

And the Arrancar – the Luppi man he'd killed, and the three women he'd fought – they were all Hollows. All creatures who preyed upon and ate humans to gain power, only, they were so highly evolved that they had managed to develop the most effective camouflage ever – a human likeness. And Hitsugaya, the teenaged alien warrior, was the only one who could kill them because he was the only one with the training and powers enabling him to do so.

Everything Toushiro had been saying…was true. But not in the way Izuku was expecting. He wasn't sure which of these bitter pills was the hardest to swallow. The fact that Hitsugaya had been lying so well, for so long…or the fact that he hadn't revealed any of this until after it became clear that his only other option was outright villainy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he slowly saw Yaoyorozu stand, her hands trembling. But he couldn't muster the willpower to turn his head and look. Everything seemed frozen. And Hitsugaya – he was just _sitting_ there. Completely calm. He'd only spoken a few times, and only to caution the agents away from certain kinds of information, like when they'd begun delving a little too deep into the rank structure of Hitsugaya's alien society. But he raised an eyebrow as Yaoyorozu stood up, watching her with a curious tilt of his head.

"S-so, Hitsugaya-kun…" she said weakly. "What you told us about your abilities – the one with bypassing the laws of physics and quantum physics-"

Hitsugaya raised a hand to stop her question before it fully formed, smiling slightly.

"I wasn't lying about that, if that's what you're asking," he reassured, "That's actually the crux of my power, and where my inhumanity lies. My body isn't made from normal matter the way your human bodies are, so I can selectively break the laws of physics at my choosing. And it's this ability – the ability to interact with and become this form of anti-matter – that my people can pass to humans. But it's highly illegal to do so, and it's safer for me to take care of the Hollows anyway."

Yaoyorozu fell silent, her dark eyes fixed on the rather distant, cool smile on Toushiro's gold-tinged face, then stiffened slightly as he turned his head away. The dismissal was pointed. Very pointed. She sat back down with a faint sob of despair, her lower lip trembling. Izuku saw Todoroki's gaze drop too, his classmates all-too-clearly understanding Hitsugaya's detached air.

Suddenly, the anger and frustration and blazing upset that he'd tried to pour out to the kittycat back in the dorms became far too much, knifing at his insides with a dull blade. Hitsugaya had broken a promise. He'd betrayed their trust. He'd killed a man. And now, worst of all, just as they were finally being told the why and how of all the nasty tidbits and Hitsugaya's alien status, he was shutting down again. Pushing everyone away again. Like it didn't matter that he'd let himself be vulnerable, like it meant nothing that he'd been willing to go to prison for them.

He was taking their friendship, even broken, and spitting on it.

"Toushiro."

Toushiro's given name came out of his mouth without thinking, and all his classmates blinked in surprise. Toushiro did the same, a touch of consternation wrinkling his pinched nose, and he slid off his airborne seat to touch the soles of his boots to the wood of the stage. The jade of his eyes flared to deep forest emerald.

"…I prefer my surname, Midoriya-"

"I'm not giving you that option."

Izuku knew his hands were shaking, but he curled them into fists and stood up, shoulders hunched with tension. Toushiro was staring at him, the expression horribly blank. But even though he was sure the controlled calm was Toushiro's way of tamping down his more volatile emotions, even though he knew the other teenager could get angry – he found that he didn't entirely care. He took a deep breath, then narrowed his eyes, knuckles going white as his fingers dug into clammy palms.

"You don't get to discard us like we meant nothing," Izuku said, his voice cracking with strain. "You've already broken every promise you made to me and to the others. You've already taken everything we tried to do for you and spat on it. You will _not_ talk to us like you don't know us."

"You don't know _me_ , Midoriya."

Toushiro's voice had lost the vapidly pleasant tinge from just earlier, and his tone was icy cold. There was a hidden kind of anger there, the same frozen fury that he'd heard earlier. Izuku tried his hardest not to flinch away from that furious stare. But he held his ground, his own anger bubbling up in his chest.

"Really? I know you well enough to know that you're only acting cold-hearted because you don't want anyone getting close to you," Izuku snapped, trying not to bite through the inside of his cheek. "You said so yourself, didn't you? On the bus to the training camp? You learned to be cruel to protect yourself, to push people away to avoid getting hurt. But yet even after everything you've said, even after threatening to cripple Aizawa-sensei and threatening to hurt us to keep us out of your way, you still tried to protect us! You're only doing this now because you're just afraid to face us after what you did, and so you're running away from the issue in the first place!"

He saw the dilation of Toushiro's black pupils, the feral constriction of those dark pools to tiny points, the vivid gemstone green of Toushiro's yawning alien glare turning frigid. The teenaged alien's posture tensed, a ripple going through the golden muscle of his shoulders, and his lips peeled back to reveal a white snarl.

"I am not a coward," his friend hissed, his tone low and dangerous. Izuku knew he was pushing buttons. He knew he was treading into dangerous territory. But he also knew that Toushiro, for all his anger and bravado, wouldn't hurt him. He'd almost done so once before, almost had strangled him. But the second he'd realized what he'd done, he'd let go, agony in his emerald eyes. Toushiro would sooner turn the whole world against himself than let someone else get hurt. Because he was a stupid, self-sacrificial idiot and _wow_ , maybe that was sort of hypocritical of Izuku to be upset about. But _still._

So Izuku lifted his chin and glared right back. He knew he was right. He knew Toushiro far too well by this point. He knew what would happen. Toushiro was fighting a losing battle.

And then Kacchan stood up, reddish eyes furious, his hands sparking. His entire body was shaking with suppressed rage.

"Not a fucking coward? Bull _shit_ you're not a coward! You- you fucking traded yourself to a villain! Because your stupid ass thought I need a _fucking rescue_. And now you're gonna stand up there and act like a snooty nerd who's got the damn right to tell _us_ to fuck off?!"

Toushiro snarled, gaze flashing with glittering annoyance and wrath, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Sit down, Bakugo," he commanded, his voice cold, barely keeping his temper in check. Kacchan nearly exploded.

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, Hitsugaya? You don't fucking get to make any goddamn demands! You want me to sit down? You want me to think for even a fucking second that you're not a shitty coward? Then fucking _prove it_. You said you'd cripple and hurt anyone who stood in your way, didn't you? If you're not a coward, then you'll come down here and fuck me over permanently. Otherwise, you're a pathetic extra just like shitty Deku said you were!"

That got everyone's attention, and as Inko and Katsuki Mitsuki yelped and All Might surged to his feet, a scolding look on his face, the white-haired teenager's expression went dark. Malice flared in that dark stare. Pressure thickened the air of the room, but Izuku took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain standing. Katsuki stumbled, knees buckling, but he grabbed onto the back of a chair and forced himself up, spitting mad still.

"You don't mean a word you said, either of you," Toushiro laughed coldly, ice in his stare. "I'm not even human. Everything I've ever told you was a half-truth, designed to manipulate you into doing what I wanted."

Izuku shook his head, still glaring hard at Toushiro.

"You might lie and manipulate us however you want, but you're transparent when it comes to how you're feeling, Toushiro," he said, determined now, strangely touched by Kacchan's – acerbic – support. "You let me in too far for this to fool me now. You gave too much for me to believe for even a second that you'd hurt any single one of us. You _voluntarily_ recounted one of the experiences that gave you PTSD to us and forced yourself to talk through a flashback, to be vulnerable with us. You actually let me _hold you_ so you could force yourself to talk – just to convince us to do what you said and stay safe. Stop…stop _lying_ to yourself and us about what you're feeling! It's like you told me – you've got a hell of a backbone in you. Use it. And let us decide whether or not to forgive you."

Toushiro started visibly, his hand dropping from the empty space over his shoulder where his long blade was usually tied. The shadow faded from his emerald stare, the anger and malice and pent-up stress dissolving into wide-eyed shock. His mouth opened slightly, pale lips falling into a small crescent of disbelief. Izuku felt a surge of triumph suddenly, the strange vibrating pressure of Toushiro's chilled presence resonating lightly in his bones. That was checkmate. Katsuki snorted in derisive, grudging agreement with his former target. Even Nedzu looked pleased by the response.

It _had_ to be checkmate.

"…We're all scared of different things, Toushiro. For me…it's a lot of stuff. Mundane stuff, mostly, but also the possibility that I might lose people. I mean…we've been attacked by villains twice. You protected us last time, and again at Kamino, and when you…when you traded yourself for Kacchan I thought you were going to get yourself killed."

Toushiro's hands fell limp to his side, his brow smoothing, eyes growing steadily wider as Izuku kept talking. Izuku stepped over his mom in her seat, sidling into the aisle until he was standing directly in front of Toushiro, locking gazes with him. Off to the side, Katsuki was strangely quiet, smoldering in place but not speaking, small explosions cracking on his fingertips. He seemed unusually unsure of himself.

"I'm terrified for my friends, that I won't be able to do anything when the time comes," Izuku said quietly, taking a few steps forward. "And you – you're scared that we'll turn our backs on you for what you are, for what you've done. And so you're not even giving us a chance. Isn't that right? Even if you are some alien following orders to keep us safe, nobody told you to go as far as you did, to be willing to take the fall for 'manipulating' us when we went to Kamino. And being friends with us – that's not keeping you from doing whatever it is you have to do here. You're being cruel and cold because you're scared we'll reject you. But you're not even giving us a chance to do otherwise. That- that's not fair."

Toushiro's breath whistled. He let out a shaky laugh, flexing his fists like he wasn't sure what to do with his golden fingers.

"…you're using my own words against me, Midoriya," he choked out, wavering. He disappeared in a sudden blur, reappearing barely a foot from Izuku's face. The green-haired teenager forced himself not to react, to remain calm. "I'm not sure if I'm impressed or annoyed."

Slowly, Izuku raised his hands and set them on Toushiro's lean shoulders, gripping his friend's body lightly. The teenaged non-human flinched a little at the touch, his white hair falling messily across his forehead. Izuku glared up at him, his jaw set stubbornly. Toushiro stared down the bridge of his nose, meeting him stare for stare.

"You're only hurting yourself, Toushiro," Izuku said firmly. "We're – or, at least me, I mean, I can't speak for everyone – not angry at you because we care about All-for-One, although I still think you should have let him go to prison instead. We're angry because we care about you. I– I thought you were going to die. I thought you traded yourself for Kacchan and would be killed by All-for-One once he realized you were playing for time. And then, when I saw you on TV, fighting…when I saw you _decapitate_ a living person I…I just…"

He wheezed, trying not to start crying on Toushiro's strong shoulders.

"I just felt so _useless_. Like you'd taken everything I'd ever said to you, every promise I asked you to make, and thrown it out the window and- and then you even had the audacity to tell us to make it _worse_ for you? You told us to throw you to the wolves, to cry to the police about how we were manipulated into going with you?" He laughed weakly, hands tightening over the scars he knew cut across his friend's shoulders. The other boy was just staring wordlessly, stricken. "I trusted you not to do anything stupid. But it doesn't mean that I stop caring just because you broke that trust. And I can't speak for the others right now, but I think most of us at least feel a little bit the same."

There was a long moment of silence. Then the pressure fluctuated, a faint sheen of frost spreading across the tiled auditorium floor. Tosuhiro quivered slightly. Then he took a strange, hiccupping little breath.

"I betrayed every ounce of trust I wheedled out of you, Midoriya," he snarled, voice cracking. "I- I stabbed you and _everyone else_ in this room in the back, and you know it."

Izuku didn't say anything, his mind made up, expression firm. It shattered Tushiro's composure instantly. He lunged forward, grabbing Izuku by the shoulders and shaking, anger and disbelief and complete incomprehension bleeding down the gold contours of his face. Izuku let him rage, despite his mother's squeaks of confusion and slight worry, and Kacchan's snarling anger and upset. Past Toushiro's mop of white hair, he saw Aizawa and All Might stop the government agents from lunging forward and interfering.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" The white-haired boy shouted, his hands shaking now even as Izuku felt himself grow calmer, starting to recognize that this was Toushiro losing control – losing the battle and struggling to fight his way back. "You- you don't _forgive_ people who stab you in the back! You don't make the same goddamn mistake _twice_ and trust someone who's already cut ties! That's how you get yourself _killed_ , or worse, Izuku!"

"I'm not trusting you again, Toushiro," Izuku answered, calm in the face of his friend's building ire and upset. "At least, not that easily. But…But I think I can understand you a little better now. Understand why you did what you did. I understand you were trying to protect us and fulfill whatever orders you had from your captain or lieutenant or whatever. And…and don't get me wrong. I'm furious."

Slowly he took a deep, long breath, trying to expel the last of the jitters from his system, then brushed the cold hands off his shoulders and pulled the taller boy into a hesitant hug. Toushiro stiffened instantly, arms freezing to his sides, his breath stopping. Izuku could feel the other boy's heartbeat, quick and panicked like a trapped bird, pounding in his ribcage. Toushiro was as still as a frightened animal, frozen in place like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"But I think I can forgive you anyway."

There wasn't much of a response. Only a sharp intake of air and sudden slump of his shoulders, Toushiro's rigid spine unbending easily. The auditorium was quiet. Almost too quiet. And then Izuku caught a muffled, choked noise from the alien teenager wrapped in his arms, a strangled whimper. A cool hand hesitantly moved to his back, fingers fisting in the cloth of his t-shirt, and Toushiro's head ducked, face hiding in Izuku's shoulderblade. He trembled faintly.

It wasn't until Izuku felt the spreading hint of damp on his collarbone that he realized what was happening. He blinked, eyes going round in shock and mild panic, and stared up at his teacher and the agents on stage, looking for help. Aizawa raised an eyebrow in askance at him, a hint of that dry smile of his twitching at the corner of his stubbly jaw. All Might gave him an approving grin. Even Nedzu gave him a patient nod of sympathy. Kacchan stared openly, looking almost physically disgusted although it was clear he was trying to prevent himself from moving towards them.

So, carefully, Izuku started rubbing his friend's tense back, not saying anything but not letting go either. Toushiro barely made any sound, obviously trying to keep everything under control even as the soft convulsions of his back and shoulders grew worse. It took a few minutes for anything to happen, the watchful silence of the auditorium stirring with a few soft whispers as Yaoyorozu and Todoroki stood up as well, the members of Class 1-A gradually rising from their seats and edging towards where the gold-skinned teen a hid in Izuku's shirt. And then Toushiro's voice broke the quiet, warbling with strangled emotion.

"You'll get hurt or worse if you keep forgiving people who hurt you."

But the way his grip on Izuku's t-shirt tightened, the way his whole body shuddered as he forced those words out – it was all too clear he was straining. The green-haired boy stayed silent for a moment longer, still unsure of what to say.

"…maybe, but…I think that's part of what being a hero means to me. Giving second chances to people who deserve them," he thought aloud, lower lip quivering slightly. And then he thought of something. A faint crackle of One-For-All buzzed over his fingertips, the electric green pressing firmly against the coolness on his skin.

"And suffering for people you care about is something a hero does anyway," Izuku said. "You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Toushiro's cracking voice pealed into a high laugh for a second, the faintly hysterical sound muffled in Izuku's shoulder.

"I'm no hero, Izuku."

And then Kacchan exploded again.

"You- goddammit Hitsugaya, you _saved my fucking skin!_ "

The room went very quiet, the class turning in concern at Katsuki's outburst. The walking dynamite was shaking, his knuckles white and the skin pulled taut over the the backs of his hands, veins popping in his forearms. Toushiro's back stiffened under Izuku's careful grip, the muscle rippling with suppressed shock. He didn't lift his head, still unwilling to pull his face out of Izuku's shoulder.

"…that was…" Toushiro's voice wavered, catching on a word or explanation that lodged crossways in his throat, choking him. Katsuki snarled viciously, firecracker sparks on his fingertips, and leapt into the aisle, vaulting over the empty seats in front of him. Izuku squawked in protest, Kacchan shoving him back and seizing the collar of the white-haired boy's shirt, yanking hard. Toushiro gritted his teeth as Katsuki got in his face, ducking away from scrutiny, but the redness rimming the all-too-bright green of his eyes was all too clear.

"No, don't you _fucking dare_. You didn't have to fucking _trade yourself_ or whatever bullshit to get me out if you'd only wanted to bust the League's ass, and you damn well know it," Katsuki hissed, his teeth bared barely an inch from Toushiro's golden face. "I'm sick of your fucking _spineless_ lies. Tell yourself the fucking truth for _once._ "

He shoved Toushiro bodily away, and growled low in his throat. Toushiro sucked in a sharp breath. Then the air grew chilly, and he laughed, the sound hollow.

"…I can't," he cracked. Ice settled into the pits of his jade glare, that dripping, ethereal malice creeping into every corner of the room. "I can't stop lying to myself. If I do _that_ this late in the game, I'm done. If I admit I have a heart this late, this far in…"

Izuku stared, mind racing at top speed even as Katsuki wavered, spluttering in shock at Toushiro's absolutely nonsensical response. Can't? So- Toushiro was consciously perpetuating a lie? He was consciously allowing himself to live a fantasy where he didn't care about them? Where he didn't have any emotional connecctions towards them? When it was so obvious that he was lying, even to the point where he himself would admit to his dishonesty aloud?

Why would he do that? What kind of pressure was he under in this society of his, that he had to pretend, even to himself, that he didn't feel the same friendships forming?

"…Toushiro, why can't you admit that you've made friends with us?" he asked slowly, tipping his head to the side. "How does that conflict with whatever duty you have as a member of your people's military government?"

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the question, shoving Izuku back a few steps but the blunt force wavered. The push hadn't been as confident as usual, more of a route motion than an actual shove.

"Because he's a dumbass who thinks his superiors would order him to hurt us, probably," Katsuki sneered, his upper lip curling back in a snarl. "One of his thirteen captains might feel threatened and order us all gone, and then he, like the spineless piece of shit he is, would go and just _have_ to do it."

"Kacchan!" Izuku yelped, stricken by the vindictive slant of the blonde teenager's words. Aizawa stood up, glaring hard at Katsuki, and Todoroki steamed with faint smoke, striding forward with a scowl. Even Yaoyorozu looked angry, as did several of his classmates, including Uraraka, who had just earlier been frightened of Toushiro and all he was capable of.

But then Toushiro barked out a sharp, short laugh, eyes glinting like chips of stone – dead and dull, still rimmed in red and wet with disbelief.

"You've got the measure of me better than you think, Bakugo," he said softly. The squabbling bicker went quiet. "If I was ordered to kill you…it would not be the first time I would have been forced to kill my friends."

Izuku felt his heart nearly stop beating in his chest, and even Katsuki flinched away from Toushiro at that, looked completely taken aback. Toushiro smiled at them, though there was no warmth in his expression.

"But what makes this situation worse is that this time, I would not be forced into anything," Toushiro said, looking down at his hands. "This time, I would not be locked into an arena, forced to fight my best friend to the death. I have only the laws that command me, and the law unto myself that I am. I have no superior to blame, only the oath I swore upon accepting the Captaincy of the Tenth Division of Seireitei. Only my own vows and my conscience."

Understanding swelled through Izuku's chest like a tidal wave, and he blinked, eyes widening in brief awe and horror.

"You're one of-"

"Hitsugaya Toushiro, Tenth Division Captain, child prodigy of my people," his friend finished for him, eyes still red and filling quickly. "And I have sworn oaths I cannot betray. Oaths that…that I have betrayed before for my friends. I can't…I can't afford that again. I can't afford to call you my friends and then be forced to choose between you and everything I've sworn to uphold and-"

His voice split, the deadness in his gaze flaring to terror, and he winced, rubbing a temple with a free hand. For a moment he looked past the boys confronting him, focusing on something far beyond them. He shook his head violently.

"You weren't supposed to forgive me, Izuku," he cried finally, "You weren't- you were _supposed_ to leave me alone, to back the fuck off, to- God, to be s _cared_ of me the way every other kid your age should be!"

Izuku shook his head carefully, trying to process this – that Toushiro had been _expecting_ fear. Again. After they'd already proven themselves once, he'd been expecting the same thing, all over again. Maybe it was justified – he certainly was capable of a lot of destruction. But somehow, Izuku couldn't bring himself to fear the boy who had so blatantly been willing to take the fall for him.

"…Toushiro, I don't think you _can_ scare me any more. Not unless you're hurting yourself," Izuku said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His snow-headed friend glared at him, anguish in his expression. "I…I don't know what to tell you, honestly. But if…if you're lying to yourself, isn't it just going to hurt you worse in the end when you have to make a decision?"

The white-haired boy let out a staggering laugh, eyes wide, his pupils blown to round marbles of darkness. He reeled back, a hand pressing against his temple, expression folded into a snarl of despair and anger. For a moment his face twisted, lips moving in soundless anger, like he was yelling at himself, and then all the fight seemed to leave him in a heavy rush of exhaustion. Katsuki snorted at the sudden deflation, but said nothing, jamming his hands into his pockets and slouching irritably.

"Quit being a coward and just own up to it already, Hitsugaya," he growled, but the rough snarl was softer than Izuku was used to hearing, more of a scowl than an outright sneer. "You've got to make a fucking choice. One – you lie to yourself and still end up hurting yourself if you have to do whatever fucking thing you think you'll have to end up doing, or you get over your damn idiot uselessness, suck it up, realize that you'll end up being a whiny shithead about the whole thing anyway, and you'll quit running away."

Toushiro stared hollowly at Katsuki, then let out that same shaky laugh again, this time looking absolutely exhausted, wrecked by whatever emotions were running high in his blood right now.

"You might just be making me choose between my life and yours, you know," he said after a moment, his voice ringing but soft in the room, carrying only on silence. "…I suppose you're lucky that I am not afraid of death."

The carpet grated under his shoes as he turned around, pressing his arms close to body as if for comfort. It took a moment for his words to process. But when they did Izuku felt his stomach flip, sickening relief like ball bearings rolling in his gut.

"Aizawa-sensei, I want to go back now," Toushiro said firmly, voice wavering only slightly. The dark-haired man let go of the arm of the agent he was holding, his scraggly hair somewhat less windswept than normal. His stubbly chin jutted out, and he shot a sideways glance at Nedzu, who just nodded, and Tsukauchi, whose entire face was twisted by horror and pity and secondhand sorrow. His Lie Detector Quirk must have been awful to experience, a horrid mess of false alarms and truths and mixed signals. Aizawa sighed.

"Okay kid. Sleeping pills?"

"…please."

Izuku barely registered it when Toushiro brushed through him and Katsuki and Todoroki, who had stood up in the back of the aisle, his dichromatic stare glittering with something.

 _You're lucky I'm not afraid of death._

"Toushiro."

His friend paused, one hand on the door to the auditorium, faint hints of frost just barely crackling over the doorframe. His fingers were visibly shaking. His knuckles went white on the wood, but he turned, letting out a shuddering breath.

"…yes?"

Izuku smiled, the expression hesitant, unsure how the other boy would take it when he was stretched so thin.

"…You can call me Izuku, if you want."

There was a pregnant pause. And then the golden hand dropped from the doorframe, and Toushiro took a deep, grounding breath, turning around with a hard, tense line pulling his jaw and neck into painful, agonized resolve.

"Only so long as you never call me by my title," he choked out. "Never."

Izuku blinked, unsure of the significance of the request, but he nodded in understanding. Some kind of terrible pain flashed behind Toushiro's greenglass gaze. He smiled faintly. And then he disappeared, vanishing in a faint flicker of icy pale light. Aizawa stepped off the stage after him, All Might in tow.

"He's probably waiting by the car," Nedzu said quietly. "See that Dr. Elrick knows he's likely to be upset tonight."

Aizawa groaned, tucking his face into the woven mass of his scarves. He glanced out at the stunned group of parents and the half-risen members of Class 1-A.

"…parents, any questions can be directed to the faculty and agents still onstage. Class, once your parents leave, you're to return to your dorms. Nedzu-san will escort you there."

He walked out the door after Toushiro's vanished form, his steps slow, and All Might followed, looking uncharacteristically solemn. Aizawa stopped as he passed Izuku and Katsuki, regarding them down the bridge of his long nose. Then he sighed and smiled creakily at them.

"Bakugo. Midoriya. Good work."

All Might gave them both a pat on the shoulder, silent and stern at his younger colleague's side, then followed the shorter pro-hero out the door.

* * *

 **A/N:** Izuku and the others finally understand...and they're starting to change their worldviews a bit :)


	33. ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED REPOST TO FANFICS ME

Hi Everyone! Sol here with a bit of a PSA.

I know the most recent chapters of my current fics are taking forever to come out, and I apologize that this is not an update - HOWEVER, it IS a public service announcement.

There's currently a monetized Russian website called fanfics. me (no space) that is reposting fanfics for download without the consent of the author. As far as I'm aware, their site is NOT DMCA COMPLIANT, meaning anyone whose work is reposted MAY get in legal trouble for 'profiting' off a copyrighted franchise/book/film, or etc.

TWO OF MY WORKS WERE POSTED ON THIS WEBSITE. I DID NOT GIVE THE SITE OWNER MY PERMISSION TO UPLOAD THEM THERE. And even if I DID - I REVOKE IT AT THIS TIME, ON THE GROUNDS THAT fanfics. me IS A MONETIZED SITE, AND I AM NOT ABOUT TO GET IN ANY KIND OF LEGAL BULLSHIT OVER FANFICTION.

I have sent the site owner an email demanding the removal of my works - Dragon Blade and Crash-landed. If they are NOT removed within a timely manner, I will be posting the transcripts of the emails (Russian and English translations) on my twitter and tumblr. I have currently made posts about this theft. If you're so inclined - please reblog or retweet them, and the post that I link in the tumblr vent as well. And for any fellow A03 users - tag your works with "Don't copy to another site" as this will force the fic-lifting script to skip your work.

I am posting this PSA on all my multichaptered stories on ffnet, and I have tagged all of my A03 works with the tag above. Please check out the post on my tumblr/twitter for information about how to find and remove your works - and PLEASE do so. Being sued over fanfiction is EXACTLY the kind of terror that was rampant before the advent of A03 and their volunteer legal team, and I don't want ANYONE to be placed in the position of forced deletion or forced payment of monetary damages.

Stay safe, loves. Next chapters of my fics should be coming out soon - I'm just...currently struggling to write a thesis that, for some reason, I decided to write fully and THEN translate into Mandarin Chinese.

~Sol


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